


If The Sky Should Fall Tonight

by DisneyPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Action, Angel Dean, Angel Sam, Angels dying, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Some angst, a slow build, absent god, bad relationships, human cas, hunter cas, just a wreck, lots of human/angel swaps, low self esteem', mentions of abuse, most angels will be mentioned, orphan Cas, sad feels, some hunting, those come a little later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisneyPrincess/pseuds/DisneyPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak has been hunting things that go bump in the night for as long as he can remember. He knows he'll never get a real life or happiness, he's been in the game for so long that he knows he would never be able to fit in with regular people even if he wanted to. </p><p>Dean and Sam are angels of the lord, searching for a way to save there kind. With God missing, and a series of unexplained angel deaths, they must search somewhere other than heaven for the answer. </p><p>When Dean rescues Cas from hell, he finds the one person who might actually be able to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Hell And Back

Gabriel had told Castiel over and over again that hunting alone was silly and he was going to get hurt, but Castiel hadn't listened and he had to shoulder all of the blame for his current situation. After all, he usually hunted with the man he considered a brother. But Gabriel wanted a vacation. Castiel didn't. He hadn't been able to relax for more than a moment since he was a child, and being idle drove him insane. How could he do nothing when there were people across the country dying? The answer was that he couldn't. So when Gabriel was sunbathing in Hawaii, Castiel was lying on the floor, bleeding out.

He hadn't begun bleeding spontaneously. It had been more of a process. First, he'd driven to Milton, Delaware on a tip. He'd heard through the grape vine, Garth, that there was some unusual demon activity that was making hunters more than a little nervous. So Castiel, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to check it out alone. That had landed him in a kids community center in the middle of the night. But due to his lack of back up, he was easily ambushed and overtaken.

Crowely, a familiar thorn in his side, had been the one to land the first blow. But that was all. He didn't want to get blood on his Armani suit, after all. Then Castiel was beat around for what felt like forever. He thought maybe they would let him live, they always had before. But then, Gabriel had always arrived in the nick of time, guns blazing. He felt his eyes slide shut in resignation as one bold demon stuck the knife in his gut. Castiel fell to his knees holding his stomach and half heartedly trying to stop the bleeding.

"What are you doing you morons?!?!?!" Crowley shouted when he caught sight of the blade. He shoved past the group of demons and Castiel vaguely felt the demon grab his shoulder. He blinked and they were in an empty hospital waiting room.

"Yes well, that back fired. Castiel dear, try not to bleed every where. We still need to talk." Castiel tried to respond but his vision was getting blurry and he was feeling very tired. Crowley snapped his fingers a few times in front of Castiel's face then he sighed loudly before flagging down a nurse. He couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the demon. The last thing he saw as his vision went was the world tilting on its side.

\-----

It was the consistent beeping that Castiel fist took notice of. Then his eyes slid open slowly. He took in the needle in his arm, the heart monitor, the stiff bed. He'd never been in a hospital before and it was unfamiliar. Unfortunately, the man sitting beside his bed with his legs crossed, was not at all unfamiliar. He silently let his head fall back and tried to will him away. No such luck.

"Good morning deary, had a nice little nap?" Crowley asked leaning his forearms on his thighs. "Splendid. Now we really must get down to business."

"Get out," Castiel demanded before he could continue. He was not going to deal with this after he'd gotten stabbed. By one of Crowely's henchmen no less.

"I understand you've got your knickers in a twist, but frankly I don't care." Crowely said calmly. "You see, I have deal that you simply can't refuse. Tell me where you hid the spell and I'll let you live." He smiled like he'd just offered the invalid the world. 

Castiel stared at him blankly.

"Alright, I can see you don't want to talk. I'm sure that brother of yours will be glad to tell me when your pretty little neck is on the line." Crowley stated as he stood and strolled towards the door. Castiel prided himself in having destroyed all of his emotions long ago, but he found that Crowely seemed to bring up an anger Castiel always forgot he harbored deep inside himself. He ignored the stirring.

"What spell?" Castiel asked, shifting in bed. It would seem that there was no possible comfortable position in a hospital bed. Crowley froze then turned toward Castiel with an impish grin.

"You don't know, do you?" Crowley let out a bark of laughter before approaching the hunter. Castiel cursed himself. He'd just sealed his own fate. "You have no idea what spell I'm talking about. How refreshing. Well this has a been a treat, but I must get going. Business to attend to, deals to seal."

Castiel stared up at the demon. He was taking in Castiel as though he was never going to see the hunter again and he felt his heart race. Crowely tolerated those he could use and at the moment, Castiel was not only useless, but he was also helpless. Castiel expected fear but there was none. He was ready to die. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, he at least wanted to go down fighting.

"Don't get your hopes up. There's no fighting this one," Crowley lifted his arm and he almost looked as though he was going to miss Castiel, but then he flicked his wrist and everything went black. 

Crowley stood in the hospital room for a moment longer, staring at the body whose neck he'd just snapped. "You know the world's gone bonkers when you miss an enemy," he muttered to himself. But he paid it no more thought as he casually strolled out of the room. 

"See you in hell," he seemingly said to himself. 

\-----

It was dark and he was on a slab. He was suspended and nothing existed but his personal block. He felt the coolness on his back as he lay there. He was disoriented and he didn't know where he was. Until he saw the demon. He was tall and hidden by shadows, but he red eyes glowed almost as brightly as the blade in his hand. He stepped menacingly towards the slab, and slid the flat edge of the blade slowly down Castiel's arm. Castiel shivered. He'd thought about it for a long time, imagined how it would be, he was disappointed. Castiel had thought hell would be worse.

"Ready to play?" The demon growled before digging the blade deeply into Castiel's arm. He grit his teeth and tried to pull away. The demon held fast.

They both watched, enraptured, as the blood swelled up against his skin. It began to spill over and Castiel could feel the throbbing but it was mild. Then the demon was on him again and again, cutting and slicing and hacking. The pain was endless and unbearable. His voice was hoarse before he knew it and his nails were ragged from scraping them against the slab, searching for purchase. Anything to alleviate the pain. He couldn't fathom anything beyond the suffering.

Castiel could feel blood pooling around him. It was every where and he'd hunted enough to know that there was too much blood outside his body for him to be conscious, or even alive. When he was able to force his head up, he couldn't believe it. How could he still be alive when the demon was dicing at his organs? _You aren't alive,_ Castiel reminded himself.

Then it was over.

Castiel blinked and he was whole. His skin was perfect and unblemished. There were no scars or open sores. Thank God, for a second, he didn't feel any pain at all. He sighed loudly felt his eyes slide shut as he relaxed. Until he heard the breathing. Castiel tensed and looked up to see a pair of red eyes staring down at him, filled with mirth. He tried to sit up, get away. He couldn't deal with another round of torture. He just couldn't.

But the demon held him down and displayed a red hot iron.

"Want to make a deal?" The demon asked with a deep voice that resonated through Castiel's chest. The demon's breath fanned over his face and made Castiel want to hurl, though he was sure there was nothing in his stomach. "I can make all the pain end for a small price." The demon continued. Castiel whimpered as the iron skimmed over his cheek in an almost delicate manner. The demon took this as a sign to keep talking, though he didn't move the iron any farther from Castiel's face. His eyes were trained on it in case it made any sudden movements. Not that Castiel would be able to stop it. 

"I have a young man waiting on a slab of his own," the demon explained as he pulled away and circled Castiel. His red eyes stayed trained on the hunter. " Though he's hardly a man. He's a twisted little thing. Used to take little girls from their beds and hide them in his basement. He would only give them food if they did terrible things for him. So he deserves to be on the slab. Not you, Castiel. You helped people. So many people." The demon purred.

Castiel could sense it was going no where good and turned his head away. But the demon only moved his head back and held him still. 

"So, if you take this hot iron, and go to town on that young man over there," the demon pointed to a slab directly beside Castiel's that he hadn't noticed before. The young boy lying on it was handsome and very dazed. He didn't seem to know either of them were beside him. "Then you won't ever have to deal with this again," the demon offered, pressing the iron against Castiel's neck.

He grit his teeth but screamed anyways. He could practically feel his blood boiling beneath his skin. He didn't need to look at the boy to know his answer. 

"I'll do it."

\-----

Castiel woke up alone and shivering. He was stark naked and lying on wet asphalt in the middle of the street. He wrapped his arms around his torso in an attempt to get warm and jumped to his feet. The last he could remember, he'd been in hell. It had been what felt like ten years being tortured on that stupid slab endlessly. And they'd never seemed to run out of different ways to be cruel. Different ways to hurt him. He shook the thoughts from his head and held back the tears. He didn't know how it had happened but he was back on earth safe.

He was out.

He half gasped, half laughed as he turned around and found himself in front of a hospital. It looked like the same one he'd been admitted to just before Crowley had sent him down to hell. But he was back. He focused on that thought as he stumbled around the side of the building. His legs felt weak and foreign. Castiel had to use the wall as he struggled through the back door. The hallway was blindingly white and empty. He nervously slipped in and checked the first door. It was a closet filled cleaning supplies. The next one was locked. Castiel swore.

The next door hid a small room filled with scrubs. Castiel slipped in and locked the door behind himself. He some on and made his escape. Once he was back on the street, Castiel began walking. He needed to find a phone, then he needed money, then he needed a bed. Despite having just come back from hell, he was exhausted. Being tortured for 10 years did that to a guy.

Barefoot was not the best way to go. It was about five minutes before he felt like the rocks on the road were becoming part of his body composition. He should have gotten shoes. That would have been the smart, logical thing to do. But he hadn't. He'd just run like an idiot. Castiel was careful to avoid the fact that unless he was about to steal shoes, he wouldn't have gotten a pair anyways.

Castiel took the long, painful walk as a chance to brainstorm. There was no way he'd just appeared on earth. He had to have gotten out somehow. He certainly hadn't broken himself out of hell. He wasn't that good of a hunter. And Crowley had put him in hell, there was no way he'd pulled Castiel out. He was a business man, and they no longer had any business to conduct.

Castiel couldn't think of anything else that was physically capable of raising him from perdition. No demon besides crowley. Maybe a trickster but why would one of those help him. They usually just wanted to cause as many disturbances as they could in his life. He sighed and tried to think of any other creature that had the power and motivation to rescue him. He couldn't even think of one more.

But that only bothered him a little. There was something that bothered him much more than that. What he couldn't wrap his head around was why some creature would expend such a vast amount of energy breaking him out of hell. That was a feat that would massive amounts of effort for even something as powerful as a trickster. So what got up one morning and decided that Castiel was worth all of that. Because he was sure he wasn't even close to worth it. He felt a flashback coming on, but he shoved it down.

He'd just returned from hell, he didn't need to relive _that._

When he finally came across a phone booth, he could see the sun peeking over the trees of the road. His mind was going insane trying to find an explanation and his body was exhausted. He used change he'd picked up off the street and dialed the number he'd known by heart since he was a small child. The phone rang and rang and rang until he was sure it was going to voice mail. He felt worry creep up on him, he didn't have any more change, but then it picked up.

"Who's this?" A dead voice answered. Castiel forgot to reply in his shock. Gabriel sounded bad. Really bad.

"It's Castiel," he stated, trying not to worry about how very wrong his brother sounded.

"Shut your cake hole, don't you dare try and pull this on me! Who is this really?" Gabriel demanded, sounding past furious. So he'd found out for sure then.

"It is your brother, Castiel. Now would you please come retrieve me. I awoke on the side of the road and I'm rather hungry. If it would help you to believe me, you can perform all of the tests on me once you arrive, although I would appreciate it if you hurried. It's rather cold and I don't have any foot wear." Castiel babbled.

"Castiel?" Gabriel asked hesitantly after a long pause. "Where are you? Where the hell have you been? You were dead, I saw the body! I had you cremated...." he trailed off and Castiel didn't know if he was supposed to speak. It was getting cold and he really would love to have a bottle of water.

"I'm on route 89 if you would kindly come get me. Near the hospital where I was declared deceased. I do believe you should hurry because I am feeling woozy and I would find it terrible inconvenient to pass out in the middle of the road. I believe it would be easier for you to locate me if I remain conscious."

"God, it really is you," Gabriel mumbled. Cas cocked his head in confusion. He could faintly hear jingling and shuffling. He hoped it was Gabriel getting ready.

"No it's Castiel," he responded absentmindedly. Gabriel could be so slow to arrive at conclusions.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes, stay put," Gabriel ordered after letting out a short laugh. Cas was going to ask what was so funny but the line went dead.

Cas sat down on the square of concrete that supported the phone booth and muttered, "where else would I go to himself." Lack of sleep made him cranky. But despite his slightly sour attitude, he found himself worrying about Gabriel once more. He was more than relieved his brother was alive. After all, he'd been certain that Crowley would go after Gabriel second. 

But his brother hadn't sounded alive. He'd sounded empty. And of all people, Gabriel was the least likely to ever sound empty. Everything that came out of the man's mouth had a purpose. It was either to annoy, to entertain, or to threaten. There were no other options with Gabriel. And that made Castiel wonder how hard he had taken the death. Castiel had always assumed that he would bounce back quickly, just like he had for the death of their old friend Adam. He had just been a boy, and that had taken Gabriel months to come to terms with. 

Yes Castiel and Gabriel were like brothers and that was different. But Castiel had been gone for years. He found it hard to believe that his brother was still mourning after such a long period of time. Castiel felt immensely guilty for even thinking it, but he thought that if Gabriel were ever killed, it would not take him nearly so long to mourn him. But then, Castiel was quite adept at blocking out any and all strong emotions.

\-----

When Gabriel pulled up in the Impala, Castiel was surprised by how good it looked after all of those years, and he was even more surprised that the man still owned it. He tended to switch cars every few months. Castiel's death must have changed more than a few aspects of the man's life and it was surreal. Gabriel didn't roll down his window, or get out of the car, so Castiel looked up to find his reflection in the window as he walked around the hood. 

He froze. 

He looked exactly the same as he had when Crowley had killed him. His hair was the same length, his face was no more wrinkled. But that was impossible. 10 years had passed since his death so he had to have aged. Except he hadn't. He recalled Gabriel mentioning that he'd been cremated. So who ever or what ever brought him back, had given him a new body that looked identical to his old one.

But what did that mean? Was he going to age normally? Was his life the same except for the ten lost years? What would Gabriel look like? He tried to look through the windshield but the tint was impossible. He'd always told Gabriel it was impractical to have such dark windows. It attracted the attention of the authorities and they were pulled over more often then most. It was a hassle and one day they would pay for it when an officer decides to have a look in their heavily armed trunk. They had enough weaponry back there to be arrested for life.

But Castiel didn't have time to worry about those trivial things. He was worried about the implications of his youth. He was still very much 25 and that was a problem. He slid into the passenger side of the car and glanced over at Gabriel. The view he got was of holy water, then salt, as they were catapulted into his face. He sputtered and rubbed his face as they burned his eyes. That was going to hurt for a while. Then, as he was drying his face, Gabriel grabbed his arm and cut it with a silver knife. He stared at Castiel long and hard before pulling him into a hug over the console. 

Castiel took the time to hug him close and come to terms with the fact that Gabriel appeared to be 25 as well. It was as if no time had passed at all. Except for however long it would take him to grow the slight beard he had. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in a month. That was strange considering what a clean shaven person he usually was. Castiel added it to the long list of things that had changed. 

"I don't understand," he blurted out, once Gabriel pulled away.

"I missed you, so I hugged you," Gabriel explained with a wide smile, as he put the car into drive. Castiel tried not to let his gaze linger on the dark circles under Gabriel's eyes. 

"How long did you miss me?" Castiel asked carefully as he put on his seat belt and stared out his window. 

"As long as you were gone. It was one hell of a month." Gabriel stated, eyes fixed on the road. 

Cas nodded trying to hide his shock. He'd only been gone for a month?!?!?!?! But that could not be possible. It had been so long in Hell. He'd been so certain that it had been years down there. But maybe, he wavered, his pain had made him perceive time differently. Or his pain had made his memories inaccurate. But Castiel had an excellent memory so he found it hard to believe that was the problem. It had to be that time ran differently. That was the only semi-logical explanation. 

And that made Gabriel's appearance and attitude infinitely more acceptable. Even Castiel would be upset for a month if Gabriel passed away. That meant he didn't have to worry about his brother's state of mind and he most certainly didn't need to try to comfort him. That was not Castiel's strong suit and more often than not, he made it much worse. When Adam had died, everything he said seemed to have made Gabriel feel worse. When he finally did give up, Gabriel got over it by himself.

"I would love to let you brood forever, but would you just tell me what happened already?!" Gabriel near shouted from his seat. Castiel had not noticed how on edge he was. 

"No need to shout. I was barely gone a month and you have already forgotten all of your manners." Castiel scolded. 

"Fine Castiel, would you please for the love of god, fill me in," Gabriel begged as they pulled into a 24 hour diner. 

"Since you asked so politely, I feel inclined to," Castiel responded as he got out of the car. He didn't miss Gabriel's huff. He didn't know what it meant either, but he was too hungry to care.

\-----

"So you don't remember a thing after Crowley snapped you like a twig?" Gabriel repeated as he drowned his pancakes in strawberry syrup. 

"That is correct. I don't seem to have any recollection of the time between my death and last night," Castiel lied, as he cut his pancakes into small squares. 

He didn't like lying to Gabriel. In fact, he hated it. But he couldn't bring himself to tell the truth. If he told Gabriel he remembered Hell, Gabriel would ask every question he could think of. Eventually Castiel would have to admit to what he'd agreed to and he was too embarrassed. He should have been stronger and he didn't want Gabriel to know anything about any of it.

Besides, Castiel had spent a life time questioning whether or not he deserved anything he'd ever gotten in life. It wasn't healthy or normal, but it was a self depreciating habit he couldn't seen to break. When he though of his time in hell, it just reaffirmed his belief that he deserved to be dead. He didn't deserve to be alive, healthy, or sitting in a diner across from his best friend in the world, eating delicious pancakes. He just needed a break, so he planned to forget any of that had ever happened. At least until it absolutely had to be said.

He and Gabriel spent the rest of breakfast brain storming what could have possibly had the power to single handedly pull him out of Hell. Gabriel had no new ideas but he bet tootsie pop that Bobby would have a book or two at his place that could help. They were a day or two out so it would take a while, but they weren't in any particular hurry. After all, they'd only just gotten back together. The needed to catch up. After Castiel insisted that there was nothing more to tell about his death, Gabriel finally launched into a recap of his own.

When Crowley had showed up at Gabriel's hotel in Hawaii, he'd drilled Gabriel about some spell as well. The only difference was when he tried to kill Gabriel, he fought back and got out alive. Crowley had let it drop that Castiel was swimming with the fish, which Gabriel explained meant dead, and he drove like crazy looking for him until Gabriel finally found the right John Doe. He had Castiel cremated, then got a motel and drowned himself in peppermint schnaups. That stage lasted up until Castiel called him from the side of the road.

He was just glad Gabriel still had an intact liver. 

Gabriel tried to leave Castiel with the bill, but Castiel was privy and left first. In the car, Gabriel drove and Castiel borrowed his smart phone so he could begin looking for new cases. Now that he was back, he wanted to get back to work. He knew Gabriel would not approve of his eagerness to return to work so Castiel failed to bring it up. Hell had convinced him that he had not done enough good and he had so much more to atone for. He had people to save and not much time. Who knew when he could die again. And there would be no guarantee that he would be brought back again. 

He simple bookmarked articles that stood out to him and chatted with Gabriel whenever either of them thought of something to bring up. There wasn't much else to do as they headed towards Bobby's, except hope the old man would be able to help them figure everything out. One thing Castiel and Gabriel hated equally was not knowing something that pertained to them. They would find out the truth if it killed them.

Castiel noted that it most certainly could.

\-----

She was the kind, and beautiful, and loved, and innocent. And dead. They couldn't believe it. It had happened to others, but they had never thought that the death would touch someone so close to them. The man stood beside his younger brother silently, not daring to say a word. Before them was the body, the vessel, but neither of them could bring themselves to say their last goodbyes. It was too soon, too raw. How could they be expected to say goodbye forever in just a matter of minutes? It was impossible. And it didn't feel like a proper goodbye anyways. Her vessel wasn't her. She wouldn't hear their prayers anymore.

 _It's your fault,_ the older man thought.

Her blond waves were spread around the asphalt, creating a halo above her head. Neither of them pointed this out. Her pale skin had taken on a gray color and her lips looked more blue then red. Her eyes that had always been so full of life were drained and dead. But the worst part had to be the dress she was wearing. It had been her favorite one, even though they rarely indulged in such things as vanity. Look at what happened to Lucifer and he had been the most vain of all. It was a white airy thing that had made her seem as though she was floating whenever she wore it. She'd always said it made her feel pure, but she didn't need the dress for that. Everyone knew it but her. 

_It's your fault,_

He tried to see past it all, the physical form she had occupied temporarily, to see if any of her essence remained in the vessel, but there was nothing. She was well and truly gone. Though he hadn't needed to check to know that. When they'd first arrived on the scene, the charcoal colored imprint of her wings on the asphalt had given it away. Neither of them had been able to look at that for long. 

_It's your fault,_

The thing that had killed a hand full of other angels that they hadn't been as close to, had killed their Jess, and without having to say it out loud, he knew that they had waited for too long to act. They'd put it off and Jess was dead because of it. The older brother had known they would have to figure out what was killing their brethren before all of the angels were dead. 

None of the angels to be killed had been very high ranking. They had all been the equivalent of foot soldiers and so the higher ups were ignoring the problem for the moment. But they didn't know how long it would last. Lower ranking angels could be killed off for years before the higher ups would even begin to do something. The brothers just couldn't afford to wait that long. They couldn't afford to wait for orders.

So he'd gone ahead and broken the rules, taking his younger brother down with him.

That night they'd done something rash, something the older brother had been sure was necessary. They'd rescued a righteous man from Hell and brought him to life. The older brother was sure the man they'd saved would be the one to help them save the angels, but the rescue hadn't been sanctioned, so they'd been forced to do it in secret with no additional help. It had ended up taking longer than they'd planned. They hadn't gotten back to heaven when they were supposed to and Jess was dead.

The older brother felt the weight of his mistake heavy on his heart. He knew he would never be able to make up for it. The only chance he had at redemption was finding out how to save the angels that were still alive. He didn't know exactly how he was going to do it but he knew he would keep trying until he was on his death bed. There was no other option for him. 

And on top of it all, they'd become fugitives. The higher ranking soldiers began looking for them the second they realized what the two brothers had done. Luckily Jess had sent them a message for help as she was dying. They'd gotten to her after her death but before any others could arrive. The older brother nodded away from the body and they both made a move to disappear.

But before they could leave, the two men were stopped by a woman in a grey pants suit. Her hair was in a tight bun and they could tell she was trying hard to keep emotion from her face. She held out a blade to the taller man. He already owned an angel blade, but the one being offered to him was not his. It belonged to Jess and he didn't immediately reach out for it. The older brother placed a hand on his shoulder and nudged him forward. Reluctantly, the younger brother tucked the blade beside his own.

"Thank you, Ana," The taller man said, nodding his head at the woman.

"We all agreed she would have wanted you to have it," Ana responded neutrally, though the older brother thought he saw a hint of emotion in those dark eyes. "Now off with you, others will be here soon." Ana warned before disappearing in a flash of dark wings. The older brother turned away and stretched his wings. He needed to get away from her already. It was becoming too painful.

"Dean," his younger brother called.

"Yeah, Sammy?" He asked, not putting his wings away.

"Are you sure we can't stay a while longer?" He asked softly, and Dean couldn't help but turn towards his brother. He looked so vulnerable and sad with his long hair drooping in front of his eyes. It caused Dean deep pain to turn him down.

"Sorry, but you know we can't," Dean forced out. Sam nodded, spreading out his wings as well and getting one last look at what used to be Jess.

"Yeah I know, and don't call me Sammy," he complained before disappearing. 

Dean actually found himself chuckling at his younger brother. He could be such a sour puss sometimes. With a sigh, Dean flapped his wings and headed for their safe house.


	2. We All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy ^.^
> 
> p.s 
> 
> I edited the end of the first chapter and replaced Naomi with Ana. As you probably noticed I already have a place for her in the story.

The trip to bobby's had been entirely uneventful except for Castiel's realization that life was not that much better than before his short vacation in Hell. He certainly had not anticipated the after effects. He'd thought he was good at shutting out things that bothered him, but Castiel had been so very wrong. His brain refused to allow him to leave Hell unscathed.

The first thing to go wrong was the nightmares. He fell asleep somewhere near midday, and he immediately slipped into a reenactment of his time down under. He felt every second of it as if he was still down there. Then he woke up, not an hour later, gasping and sweating in the passenger side of the Impala. Gabriel had been worried, but had pretended he wasn't. Castiel was grateful for that, but he knew it was only due to Gabriel's lack of ability to deal with serious problems.

He drifted off several times after that, but each time he was met with a different nightmare, a different demon. Castiel gave up after the third dream and decided he would stay awake until he could get his hands on some heavy duty sleep medication. On top of that, his lack of sleep was making him sour, and Gabriel's constant positivity about finding the one who had brought him back to life was killing him. Castiel tried to get him to argue back, but his friend was not having it. He wasn't about arguing either. When they finally arrived at Bobby's, Castiel practically flew out the door.

Castiel was bombarded by cold holy water, salt, and a blade as he walked through the front door of Bobby's house. He should have expected it it of coarse, but he was still minorly surprised and some holy water weaseled it's way up his nose. He sputtered and tried to hawk it out to no avail. Gabriel slammed a hand on his back roughly then maneuvered past him as he resigned to breathing through his mouth.

"Bobby I'm hurt," Gabriel whined as he opened the fridge. Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to Bobby who was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Though it pains me to agree with anything Gabriel has to say, I am me. He performed each of these tests already in the car." Castiel stated, trying and failing to dry his face and arms.

"Just makin' sure," Bobby said with a shrug, before pulling Castiel into a bear hug. Castiel patted his back slowly, but he'd never been fond of hugs. Or any type of physical contact. They separated and Bobby immediately picked up the only open book on his desk. It sat atop piles of closed ones and Castiel wished Bobby hadn't had to go through those all by himself. He notices how tired the man looks and the half empty bottle of liquor on the floor.

"Now I couldn't think of a single thing off the top of my head that would have the juice to bring Castiel back, besides a trickster, a'course, but I've been lookin' through all of my books and I found one thing that might make sense." Bobby extended the book to Castiel and he took it. Gabriel's head popped up from inside the refrigerator with a twizzler hanging out of his mouth, but he wasn't interested enough to check it out, not when Bobby had bought sweets just for him.

Castiel examined the pages. One was dominated by a large photo of a man. He was draped in a tunic and held a large dagger towards the sky. A heavenly ray of light shone down on him and Castiel felt disbelief creep in as he recognized the photo. The caption read Raphael. The next page, he skimmed it, was a summary of the origin of angels and their abilities. They did in fact have the ability to raise the dead, whether it be from heaven or hell. But Castiel could not take the idea seriously. There was no such thing as God or heaven, how could there possibly be angels?

"Bobby you cannot possibly be suggesting that this is a plausible explanation." Castiel rationalized and handed the book back to Bobby. He could not believe that was the only explanation they had. It was foolish. Gabriel closed the refrigerator and crept closer, interest once more peaked.

"What?" He asked, but Castiel and Bobby ignored him. The older man slammed the book shut and tossed it aside.

"I know it sounds insane, but with everything else that goes bump in the night, we should at least consider it, boy," Bobby argued, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"What am I missing?" Gabriel repeated, leaning on Castiel.

"So if we were to consider the very unlikely possibility that they are in fact real, how would we go about summoning one?" Castiel wondered aloud, shaking off Gabriel. But as he let go, Cas noticed a mark on his arm. He lifted his sleeve. There was a red, raised hand print on his arm. He couldn't remember ever having it before and he didn't think that it was a mark left over from hell. If it was, why hadn't any of his other wounds transferred over onto his new body. There had been so many wounds after all.

"I reckon the angel left us a clue after all," Bobby muttered before hurrying over to his abandoned book and cracking it open. Castiel could not tear his eyes from the mark. "Theres a spell here that should be able to do the trick," Bobby said to himself. "But we'd be damn near defenseless." He stared off into space and Castiel was suddenly distracted by a shocked Gabriel.

"You think angels brought you back?" Gabriel sputtered.

Castiel approached bobby and glanced over his shoulder to peek at the spell. It was incredibly complicated and the necessary ingredients to perform the spell seemed to go on forever. He recognized a plant that he knew to be extinct and sighed loudly. It was ridiculous after all. There was no way an angel had pulled him from hell. They didn't exist. And if they did, why hadn't they shown any interest in Castiel years ago.

He rubbed his eyes roughly and turned away from them both. An angel should have been there 25 years ago when his mother had left him on the front steps of an orphanage. It should have been there when Castiel spent years feeling alienated and alone. It should have been there when they kicked him out at 18 with nothing but the clothes on his back. And it definitely should have been there on his nineteenth birthday.

No, he wouldn't think about that.

"How do we prove that it was not an angel?" Castiel asked loudly. His voice sounded rough to his ears, but he disregarded it.

"Well, we'd have to do the spell," Bobby explained. "It's a damn miracle I have all of the ingredients," He laughed dryly.

"Are we really summoning an angel?" Gabriel asked, still rooted in the kitchen.

"Then let us perform it quickly and put this silly notion to rest," Castiel demanded as he turned towards them.

"I don't think that's such a good idea..." Gabriel added, coming into the living room where Castiel and Bobby stood.

"'Coarse not, you idgit. This is my house and it's gonna stay angel free. We're gonna go some place safe and then call it's feathery butt down here. Now help me get this stuff together," he ordered breaking up the list into threes.

Castiel silently took his portion and began searching drawers for sage. He didn't want to help, because to him it felt as though he was agreeing with them. There were no angels. There was no possibility that an angel would appear after the summoning. If it worked, wouldn't a hunter have done it before and told people? Wouldn't angels be common knowledge in the hunting community?

Unless people were keeping it a secret on purpose. But what reason would a hunter have for not telling others that angels existed? The answer was none. There would be no reason to keep it a secret because Hunters weren't deterred by danger, and it was there job to know about all things supernatural. So it could be very reasonable to conclude that something else was keeping people from spreading the word. Like being killed by vengeful servants of God. If they could bring a man back from death, angels could certainly kill a few hunters who'd found out about them.

The longer Castiel thought, the more he considered summoning an angel probably wasn't such a good idea.

\-----

Sam and Dean stood in the center of the room silently watching as the humans proved how smart they really were. Dean had assumed that they would not have a clue until he revealed himself, but he'd underestimated them. They knew who'd raised their hunter, and they had a spell that Dean knew would work. He would never admit it, but he was actually a bit impressed.

But he wasn't ready for them to see him yet. He still needed some time. Dean was nervous as hell. He'd never directly interacted with a human before. He didn't know what he was going to say to Castiel, or how he would appear to them. He wanted to make sure the hunter liked him after all. And what if they didn't like his vessel? Or if he scared them? He could be intimidating without trying sometimes.

There were just so many ways that it could go wrong. Dean had heard every one of Castiel's prayers since he was a small boy and he knew if he wanted to earn the man's trust and get his help, he would need to prove to him that all that had happened to him in the past had been for the best. It had all been meant to be, and just because the angels hadn't stepped in to help, didn't mean they didn't care. They were just a little less focused on the individual, and more on the whole.

But Dean had to stop thinking that way. He needed to put Castiel before all other humans. He was important, even if Dean didn't know why. Joshua had told him that Castiel would be crucial for saving the angels. While Dean didn't usually trust the higher raking angels, Joshua was one with whom Dean would trust his life. Any angel would feel the same. He was, after all, the last one to have spoken to God.

Sammy elbowed Dean and he focused on what was going on in the crowded living room. The three men were shuffling around, stacking ingredients for the spell. His eyes immediately fell on Castiel. He looked so unsure, so nervous. Dean wanted to press forward and reassure him, stare into those deep blue eyes and tell him everything would be fine. But he couldn't do it yet. He couldn't bring himself to let go of his anonymity. Besides, Castiel would likely shoot a stranger who appeared out of thin air and tried to comfort him.

"They're going to summon us," Sammy stated nervously.

"No, they're going to summon me. The spell summons the one who sprung him. You just held the demons back. Don't sweat it." Dean reassured his brother. Although he wasn't feeling all that sure. What if Castiel didn't hear him out? He couldn't kill him, but his refusal to help would cause the death of Dean's race.

"Why don't you save them the trouble?" Sammy asked, his eyes trailed Gabriel curiously.

"Can't I have a little time to think about what I'm going to say?" Dean asked throwing up his hands. Sam raised an eyebrows in silent mocking.

"He doesn't have to love you Dean, he just has to agree to help," Sam reassured him, continuing to watch the humans. Sam had always been fascinated by humans. The way they moved, the way they spoke, the way their grace shone like a beacon. He'd even taken to watching them in the past few years. He was especially fascinated in their laws and how they justified things that were so wrong.

Dean could sympathize but he had a different fixation when it came to humans. Dean felt endless amazement at the way they created things. He thought that most of them were definitely lacking in conscience, but they made up for it in the arts. They painted, wrote, sang, and Dean's personal favorite, created movies. He'd formed the habit of going to movies in his free time.

But Dean was beginning to change his mind. Just a little. When Dean looked through Castiel at his soul, he was amazed by how bright it shone, how unique it was. It had been to Hell and back, and yet it wasn't dulled or broken. There was a crack, a small one, but it was an old one. One Dean noticed, that couldn't have been from Hell. And it intrigued Dean more than any other human ever could. How could someone have a life like Castiel's and remain so unscarred?

He felt excitement for their meeting outweigh his fear.

"Thanks, but he is definitely going to love me. Every one does." Dean shot him a winning smile. Sam rolled his eyes and they both vanished.

\-----

"What do you mean that moron is alive?!" Crowley shouted as he slammed his fist onto his desk. A cup of pencils tipped over and spilled everywhere but Crowley didn't look away from the woman before him. The demon in the woman's body, anyway. She cowered and bit her lip but Crowley was already getting himself under control. She'd just been mistaken. She couldn't seriously believe that Castiel Novak had somehow clawed his way from the depth of Hell.

He stepped around his enormous oak desk and straightened his tie. He could be civilized. The problem with Hell before was that management didn't know how to be civilized about things. But Crowley was fixing a lot of things around there and sticking demons with common sense would be the first. He'd personally issued Castiel a passport to Hell, and there was no way he was walking free. Crowley would know. He'd been a preoccupied with finding that spell, but he would know. So he was going to show his endless mercy and give the demon a second chance.

"You've made a mistake. Now leave before I punish you accordingly for wasting my time." Crowley said pleasantly enough. He leaned back on his desk's edge ad waved a hand for her to disappear. She didn't and Crowley felt the beginnings of annoyance.

"Sir, I saw him at that diner. I'm sure of it. He was with the other hunter." She insisted, creeping closer.

"Well I'm sure that your services are no longer needed." He responded sadly, snapping his fingers.

The door slammed open and one of his hell hounds bound into Crowley's office. He barked and snarled and drooled all over the carpet, staying just out of reach of the demon who was now cowering in the corner of his creme colored office. She extended her arms in front of her as though it would protect her and Crowley chuckled. He sat back down at his desk and rested his feet atop them.

The hound was his favorite, and his most obedient, so it waited semi patiently until he gave the signal. It's enormous muscles were tensed and ready to release. It's claws dug deep into the carpet. It was a magnificent beast, and only the hysterical demon drew his attention from admiring it. Oh well, he needed to enjoy the little things. And one of those was having control over Hell and it's deadliest inhabitants.

"Please! Please! I must have been mistaken!" She screamed. Crowley tilted his head pretending to deliberate, then waved a hand. The hound appeared to smile as it lunged at the demon, tearing at her and sinking in his teeth.

"Now, time to go pay the boys a visit," Crowley said to himself over the screams of pain. He pulled on his jacket and strolled out.

It was probably nothing, but if anyone could get back from Hell, it would be one of those boys.

He would not underestimate them.

\-----

They took Bobby's truck once they'd gathered all of the ingredients. Gabriel sat in the passenger seat and Bobby was driving, since he'd claimed he couldn't trust either of the boys with his truck. Castiel hadn't wanted to squeeze in between them for the long drive so he'd opted for sitting in the pick up. He was still incredible uncomfortable, but he didn't have to make conversation so that was a plus. His only company was a few duffle bags and he was grateful.

There was also the added bonus of him having changed. After they'd gotten everything together, Castiel had gotten a shower and some of his clothes that he'd left at Bobby's ages ago. His shirt was a bit tight, but Castiel was glad to be back in his jeans and familiar trench coat. He hadn't worn it in years because it had always been too big, but it fit perfectly at that moment. Gabriel had done right.

Bobby said he had a friend a few hours out who owned a barn that they could use to summon the angel. It was a pretty long ride and once Castiel had gotten comfortable in the back, he couldn't help but let his eyes droop shut. It wasn't long before he slipped into a dream. The only strange thing, was that this dream wasn't a recollection of Hell. It was so much worse.

_Castiel stood on the dirt road as the black car drove away. None of the windows were rolled down, and there were no farewell waves. It took a turn a way down the road then disappeared. He knew he would never see it, or it's driver again, and he didn't feel much more than mild disappointment. He was well and truly alone, just as he always was, but that was nothing new. It was a bit of a comfort. Castiel knew people could hurt him if he let them in, but no one could hurt him if he was alone._

_With a content sigh, he turned towards the large, white farmhouse and away from his past. The window panes were painted a light blue and there were flowers planted all around the porch. There was grass everywhere and a few giant trees were visible around the yard. A bright red barn peeked from behind the house. Castiel's seven year old mind couldn't help but think it looked like a house straight out of a fairy tale. Not that he believed in those._

_He felt himself start to smile. Maybe things would be better, he thought. His old homes had been terrible, filled with cruel children and angry adults. But the house before him seemed like it might house something better for Castiel. Maybe in the new house, there would be people who were worth getting close to. People who might not hurt him. He felt a terrible excitement grow in his chest._

_Like the child he was, he failed to squash it._

_Castiel picked up his small, battered suitcase and shuffled towards the house as quickly as his short legs would carry him. It was small, the suitcase, he had very few belongings, but so was he, and it took a while to drag it all the way up the long drive way. He wished for help, briefly, but then he realized he wouldn't have wanted it anyways. In his new home, he would be stronger, and more helpful, and more thankful. He needed to be so they wouldn't get rid of him. So they wouldn't punish him._

_By the time he reached the front door, he was sweating and his fingers were red and stinging from the handle of his suit case. He knocked softly, and while he waited, he striaghtened his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. It was all about first impressions. He wanted them to like him and Castiel knew how angry adults could get when they thought a child was messy and dirty.  
_

_Castiel had to wait several minutes before he heard footsteps approach the door. When it did finally open, Castiel was sitting on his suit case fanning his face. He wasn't used to the heat, but at the sight of the woman at the door he sprung to his feet, ignoring any and all discomfort. She wore wire glasses, a hard expression, a cable knit sweater, a pencil skirt, and pointy heels. Everything was grey, and he knew deep in his gut that it would not be the fairy tale that he had imagined. The woman didn't look at all like the warm mother he hadn't known he'd been hoping for._

_She glared down at him and moved aside without a word. Castiel dragged his case in. The moment he entered the house, his vision went black._

\-----

Castiel woke up gasping and clutching at the back of his head. He knew exactly what had happened after that and he tried to shake it from his mind. He hadn't thought about that house, that woman, in years. Since he'd left it. He wiped the tears that had been forming from his eyes and sat up. He couldn't fall asleep again. He could handle dreaming about Hell, but there was no way he'd survive those dreams.

Staying awake had been the easy part. What he couldn't do, was keep his mind from drifting in other directions. Like how badly he didn't want to summon that angel. He could feel it, how bad of an idea it was. It was the same feeling he'd had that day in the porch of that house and he'd been so right that time. He didn't think he would make it through another disaster like that. 

 But he also knew Bobby and Gabriel would never back down. They were adament about finding out if angels were real. And if they didn't survive the encounter, Castiel would have to live with that. He dropped his head in his hands and sighed. There was no getting out of it that he could think of. Unless he sabotaged the summoning. Castiel loooked up, surprised with himself for even having the thought. 

He couldn't possibly do that, could he? Bobby and Gabriel would never know. And if he tainted even one ingredient, the spell wouldn't work. They would be upset, but they'd come to the conclusion that angels werent real and they would search elsewhere for the creature that had saved Castiel. It was for the greater good, after all. And he was only doing it to protect them. 

Maybe he could even tell them about it after a few years, once they'd given up the search. They would all laugh about it together and every one would still be alive. Cas could even confide in them about his time in Hell. Bobby would yell at him for a while, but Gabriel would take his side. And after a while, everything would go back to normal. Yes, it would all be much better if he sabotaged the spell.

He hesitantly opened the duffle bag nearest to him and pulled out the small notebook Bobby had brought. It had dozens of symbols that were necessary for the summoning, and castiel quickly reached for a pencil before he could change his mind. He erased a handful of symbols and switched them around. Out of order, the symbols would be ineffective and the summoning ritual would never work. 

He placed them back in the duffle bag and zipped it up. For a few minutes, he was sure that Bobby was going to stop the car any moment and ask Castiel what the hell he had done. But after half an hour, Castiel felt his heart beat slow. He could actually get away with it. He relaxed in the bed of the truck and watched the sun make it's slow journey across the sky. 

\-----

The sun was setting behing the forest when they pulled up in front of a barn. The paint was chipped, there were weeds everywhere, and it didn't look structurally sound. But Castiel could hardly worry about that when he was so relieved about the angel situation. He followed them inside calmly and stood back as Gabriel and Bobby set up the ingredients on a small table in the corner of the barn.

"Boy, get over here and start drawing the symbols," Bobby called to Castiel as he double checked that everything was in place.

Castiel complied and took the notebook and spray can from Bobby's outstretched hand. As he sprayed them over the walls and floor, Castiel repeatedly came across the symbols he'd changed. He couldn't bring himself to correct them, and he couldn't bring himself to feel more than a little bad. He was protecting them, he told himself as he messed up yet another symbol.

Then, just like that, everything was finished. Gabriel and Bobby stood in front of a bowl filled with ingredients, as Castiel stood back, watching. They set the bowl on fire and there was a flash before it went out. Nothing happened. They all looked at each other in confusion. It was rather anti climactic, and they'd expected immediate results. Castiel hid his relief as Bobby and Gabriel tried to brush it off. It would take time, they said.

They all settled down and got comfortable, prepared for a wait. 

\-----

Dean and Sam stood a few feet from the trio confused. Dean was waiting for the pull that would force him to reveal himself, but it wasn't happening. And Sam kept looking at him like he was going to bust into flames any second. They kind of had no clue what was going on. Dean was sure that Bobby had picked the right spell from the book, and he seemed competent enough. 

How had they messed it up?

"Maybe it takes time?" Sam said, asked? Dean didn't even know.

"Nah, I think they messed it up," he responded, examining the contents of the bowl. 

"Then why don't you just do them a favor and appear?" Sam asked like the rational one. Why did he always have to be so damn rational?

"Because I was counting on them forcing me. I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of nervous," Dean admit jokingly. He glanced over at Castiel and couldn't tear his eyes away from him. He looked so calm. 

"I couldn't tell," Sam stated sarcastically. 

Dean didn't respond. He was following Castiel's gaze to where it was fixed. The marks on the floor. Dean examined them and laughed. "Sammy, look at this. I think our little Castiel didn't want us to make an appearance." He pointed to the ones that were wrong. Sam smiled and they both looked towards the hunter. 

"Why do you think he did that?" Sam asked, puzzled and amused. 

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out," Dean said with a terrified grin.

\-----

Castiel jumped to his feet in surprise as the roof began shaking. All of a sudden rain had begun pouring down and the wind was pushing at the barn harder than it could probably take. He was suddenly very worried about the structure. It would be just like his luck for him to save his friends from angels, only for them to be crushed by a building. A flash of lightning lit up the sky and shone through the slats of the barn then a loud burst of thunder rattled their bones. This time Bobby and Gabriel jumped to their feet and they all began packing up their supplies. 

"Balls!" Bobby said under his breath as he tried to shove everything back in he bag. "Almost had myself believing in damn angels," he muttered.

Gabriel laughed at him loudly as though he hadn't been a believer too. They grabbed two of the duffle bags and headed for the barn door, leaving Castiel with the angle book that could under no circumstances get even a drop of water on it. Even if angels weren't all that real. Castiel had to wrap it in his trench coat, leaving him defenseless. And he still had to find a way to carry the last duffle bag without getting everything soaked. He stared at it, hoping the problem would resolve itself. That didn't work so he just grabbed it all in his arms and decided to make a run for it. 

Except that just before Bobby and Gabriel could make it to the barn's doors, they slammed open. Castiel jumped and dropped his things to the floor in surprise, just as they did. He knew it could have been the wind, it seemed rather strong. But his gut was telling him that the angel that had rescued him wasn't going to let him go that easily. When had anything in his life ever been easy?

They simultaneously took a few steps back as a man slowly strolled into the barn. Castiel was shocked by how casual he made it seem. The man almost looked normal. Short dark hair, a plaid shirt, jeans, and green eyes that practically glowed. Then he did something very not normal. He walked between Bobby and Gabriel, touching both of their foreheads and making them hit the ground with a loud thump. 

Castiel felt panic consume him immediately. He couldn't be sure it was an angel, the spell wasn't supposed to work, but something had just killed his only friends in the world and it was probably his fault. Everything was his fault. None of it would have even happened if he had just taken a vacation with Gabriel. No, he just had to go and fight monsters. Why couldn't he just be normal?

The man stopped a foot away from Castiel and he felt a strange calm settle over him. It was finally over. The man was going to kill him, he was going to end up in Hell where he belonged, and Bobby and Gabriel wouldn't have to see Castiel's true colors. He sighed in relief and met those green eyes. They didn't look cruel, but there were some great actors out there. Castiel had proved that.

"Who are you?" he asked calmly.

"I'm an angel of the lord," he replied in a similar tone. "I'm sorry about your friends, but I thought we should talk privately." He explained.

"So you felt the need to kill them?" Castiel asked without inflection. The man cocked his head to the side in confusion and laughed a loud. Castiel thought it sounded very much like an angel's laugh.

"Nah, they're just sleeping," he said with an easy grin. Castiel wanted to smile too, it was good news and he was happy about it, but smothered it. 

"So do you intend to kill me now, or after we speak privately?" Castiel asked after an awkward pause. He wanted the meeting to be over, whether or not it ended in his death. 

"Man, why are you so focused on death? I'm the one who broke you out of Hell, I went through the trouble of making you a brand new body, why would I kill you?" He asked lightly. Castiel shrugged his shoulders, but froze mid way through the motion. If he had a brand new body then that meant-

"Yeah, the scars are gone," the angel added awkwardly. Cas didn't believe him. Well he did, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. He slid a hand up his shirt and felt around the small of his back. The skin was smooth and he could feel the absence of any scars. They were gone. He no longer had a constant reminder branded into his skin. He nearly fell to his knees in awe.

"Why would you do all of this? What purpose could you possibly have for raising me from hell and setting me in an unmarred body?" He asked close to tears. The angel stepped closer, bewildered. 

"Good things can happen, Castiel." He stated. But Castiel knew better.

"Not to me," He whispered.

"Don't you think you deserve to be saved?" He asked, looking at him with those sympathetic green eyes. Castiel couldn't lie to them.

"I know I don't."


	3. Dicks With Wings

They stood silent in that large, dark barn as Castiel took it all in. For some reason, they had thought he deserved to be saved. They had gone through the trouble of raising him from Hell. He was sure they had made a mistake, but he suddenly couldn't bring himself to say that to the angel before him. He wanted to pretend, at least for a little while, that good things could indeed happen to him. They even got rid of his scars. 

But then Castiel felt that wasn't such a good thing. If they knew about the scars then it was possible they knew about everything. About what he'd done in Hell. He couldn't imagine they would still take him after that. There was no way. Not when angels were supposed to be holy and righteous. Maybe it was a punishment. Make him believe his life could be good, then let him wake up back in hell.

"How did you know that those scars were there?" Castiel asked, voice suddenly steely. "Were you spying on me from where ever it is you came? Did you think your self entitled, and because of your angelic powers, you could spy on whomever you pleased whenever you pleased, regardless of their feelings? Did you think that I would want you informed on my past, or that it was somehow your duty to be informed of it?"

Castiel ranted as he advanced on the angel. 

For some reason, Dean was backing away with his hands up in surrender. Castiel vaguely wondered why that was, when he had no means by which to kill the angel, and no back up. He posed no threat what so ever. But Dean's eyes still held worry, and he took a step back for each that Castiel took forward. It was curious, and it calmed him, though he still felt violated. He had never considered that the existence of angels meant he'd been watched his whole life. He'd been watched his whole life and there had never been one instance of divine intervention. 

"Look Cas, it wasn't like that. I wouldn't spy on you or anything, it's just, I was the one who heard all of your prayers," Dean said quietly. Castiel froze. There was no way that Dean was listening to those. Cas had been sure that no one had been listening. But that was the only way he could have possible known about the scars. Cas hadn't even told Gabriel about them, though he was sure the man had guessed. He turned away and bit his lip. 

How did one go about interacting with someone who had heard all of their most private thoughts? All of their secrets, hopes, and greatest desires? Cas couldn't even settle on one emotion. Was he relieved Dean hadn't been watching him? Was he embarrassed that Dean had seen that part of his life? Was he angry that Dean had heard all of it and never once helped him? The angel hadn't been obligated to help. And Cas had always prided himself on being so self sufficient. So why was he hurt?

"You never lent any assistance." Cas stated calmly.

"I sent Gabriel," Dean replied softly. "The others refused to let me do anything more." He thought back to Gabriel's sudden, unexplained transfer to that house. He had never considered is as anything more than good luck. The last piece he ever got. Cas allowed himself a small smile before squashing it and turning back to Dean. There was one thing that was still confusing him. 

"Thank you, but why didn't you remove this as well?" Cas asked, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm and exposing an angry red hand print. Dean looked almost remorseful when he saw the mark. 

"I tried, but that was a mark caused by an angel, and it was burned into your soul. It signifies a profound bond that you can't just erase. Unfortunately, you will have the mark until the day you die," Dean said carefully. His cheeks tinged pink but that faded quickly. Cas had no idea what to make of it so he ignored it all together. 

"It's alright, I don't mind it. It will serve as a reminder." If an angel was going to bond themselves to a human like that, it meant he had to be important then. So Dean had a use for him. Cas was going to not only prove he could be useful, he was going to make up for all of the bad decisions he'd made in his life. Especially the one he made during his stay in Hell. 

"What is it exactly that you want with me?" Cas asked, sinking back into his old habit of shoving everything deep down. The moment was over and he needed to focus on what Dean wanted from him. The rain had stopped outside, but there was still a strong wind pushing against the barn walls. It slipped between the rotted slats of wood and ruffled Cas's hair, ghosted over his exposed arm. 

He rolled down the sleeve quickly and scooped up his trench coat from the ground. The material immediately reassured him as he slipped it on. It felt like comfort and warmth and home. He let his mind drift briefly to how he hoped the afternoon would end. He would go back to Bobby's and relax on his weathered sofa with some hot chocolate, a blanket, and a book.

"I need your help," Dean said with a hopeful smile. The obvious statement pulled Cas from his daydream. 

"What could you possibly need my help with?" He asked, as Dean paid far too much attention to his hands. 

"Well, I don't really know. My kind is dying, and all I know is that you can help me save them." Dean explained with that hopeful smile and those bright eyes. Cas couldn't help but want to do something.

"What is killing them?" He asked, try to keep it business like.

"We don't know," Dean's cheeks flushed and he ran a hand through his short hair. Cas cocked his head in confusion. He didn't understand why Dean looked so embarrassed. He had come to Cas for help. Obviously that meant he didn't know everything. 

"Do you have any clues as to what is causing the deaths?" Cas continued.

"No," Dean mumbled, looking away. Cas nodded and began getting their things together.

"Well then we should get to work. Gabriel and Bobby need to be woken, then we will need to make the drive back to Bobby's place. He has a library that would put the royal library of Alexandria to shame. Then we can start researching what can kill angels and once we have a few ideas, we can begin the field work. We have dozens of contacts between the three of us that can be of assistance. I'm sure we'll get this all cleared up in no time." Cas babbled as he gathered their things together. When he noticed Dean hadn't moved, he grabbed the angel's arm and dragged him over to his friends. 

"Go on, wake them." Cas said expectantly.

\-----

Dean stared in awe as Cas began formulating a plan. The man had only been informed for a few moments and he already had a plan. Dean felt like me might have actually done the right thing. With Cas he could actually imagine figuring everything out. Once he stopped who ever was killing the angels, he would be welcomed into heaven with open arms. 

It was actually working. 

And when Cas grabbed him and dragged him over to his sleeping friends, Dean realized something else. Cas wasn't afraid of him, or angry with him. Dean had been scared a few times in their conversation that Cas would refuse to help them, but that wasn't the case. He didn't seem particularly eager to help, but Dean didn't think that the man was eager about anything. 

He was a little too serious for his own good. But Dean wasn't going to complain about characteristics. All he cared about was that Cas had agreed to help him, Cas had useful friends, and he had a viable plan. With a stupid grin, Dean woke Bobby and Gabriel, then picked up their duffle bags. They wouldn't be in any mood to lift things, or even move, when they came to. 

"Balls! What in the hell did you do to me?" Bobby yelled as he held his head. Gabriel seemed a little better off.

"Oooh is this pretty boy the angel?" Gabriel asked as he stood and rubbed his temples. Dean took a step back. He didn't need any of that. 

"Gabriel enough. We have a very long drive and your non sequitur comments are unnecessary." Castiel scolded him before heading outside to their truck. 

Dean smiled as he left. He was going to like hanging out with the humans. Especially Cas. He wasn't used to the man's bluntness. It was all politics in heaven, hidden behind holy intentions. He was glad to be in a place where people said what they meant. Though he thought the emotions were going to drive him up the wall. How were you supposed to know what would and wouldn't piss people off. Were they all as touchy as Cas?

He followed Cas, walking a wide circle around Gabriel who was staring him down. Bobby was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Maybe he could have been more gentle with them. But he'd walked in and Cas was right behind him. He was just so excited to meet the boy behind they prayers. Dean had gotten a little carried away in the moment and would have to work on that impulsiveness if he was going to be on earth for long. Maybe he could start acting more like Sam.

Nah.

Cas was already dropping his bags in the bed of the truck. Dean stepped out of the barn and straight into a puddle. He muttered a curse and stepped over it, only to land in puddle of mud. Dean shook most of it from his boots. He had no idea earth was so messy. How did humans deal with getting dirty and having to clean off over and over again. It was probably insanely annoying. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean called, jogging to his side. "I almost forgot to ask you, why did you mess with the spell?" Cas froze, dropping the last bag from farther than was probably intended. He glanced behind Dean quickly, then avoided the angel's eyes all together. 

"I was convinced you would only cause trouble," Cas replied stiffly. 

"What do you think now?" Dean asked with an exaggerated grin. 

"I never said my opinion changed," Castiel said, looking almost confused.

He jumped into the bed of the truck and Dean decided that meant the conversation was probably over. He didn't even try to hide his frown. Why would he think Dean was going to cause problems? He'd raised the hunter from hell and fixed him up, aside from that hand print. He was also bringing them in on an awesome secret and giving them a chance to help save all angels. That wasn't trouble.

Humans were so weird. 

Bobby approached first with Gabriel trailing behind, glaring at the mud much how Dean must have. "Well you took your sweet time, didn't you?" Bobby grumbled. "I got a life you know." Dean ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. He had taken a while. They probably would have left if he hadn't shown up when he did. 

"Sorry, I was wrapped up in other angel business." Dean lied. Gabriel scoffed. 

"I call bullshit," He said, climbing into the passenger side of the car. Bobby made a sound of agreement, and got behind the wheel. "You getting in sweet cheeks?" Gabriel called through the open window. 

"I thought I could just fly us there, it would be a lot faster." Dean suggested, placing both hands on the hood of the truck. Bobby was out in an instant.

"Now don't you go messing with my truck. Just 'cause you've got a halo don't mean you can touch whatever you like. " He nearly shouted, shooing Dean from the vehicle. 

"But flying us won't do any damage," Dean argued, trying to edge his way back over to the hood. Bobby was being ridiculous. The drive would take hours. 

"The hell it won't." Bobby muttered getting back into the truck and slamming the door roughly. Dean thought that was permission to fly it, until Bobby started the engine and revved it. Gabriel was laughing in the front seat and Dean figured he should get out the way before that crazy old man ran him over. Fine. He would just go on ahead and wait for them at Bobby's. Their loss. 

Dean did take some satisfaction in the way Bobby and Gabriel's eyes widened when he disappeared.

\-----

Sam was lying on the sofa in Bobby's living room when Dean appeared moments later. He was reading a magazine looking totally relaxed. When he noticed Dean, he dropped the magazine onto a stack by his feet and sat up excitedly. Some one clearly wanted to know how it all had gone. Dean wished he knew. He had their help, but Cas still thought he was going to cause trouble and that didn't bode well for him. 

"So are we going to plan B or not?" Sam asked impatiently. He was nearly bouncing. 

"Dude we don't have a plan B." Dean dropped down beside him. "Not that we need one." Dean sent Sam a cocky smile sideways. 

"Yes! So when do we start pl-" Sam cut off suddenly, looking around. "Dean where are they?" Sam looked at him tiredly. 

"Hey, I offered but the Bobby guy refused." Dean defended himself, hands raised. Sam glanced at his watch and stood. 

"Fine, then lets get a head start," Sam said excitedly. He was already rubbing his hands together and taking in all of the books. 

Dean backed out slowly before he got roped into helping with that. He didn't mind a little research every now and again, but he just raised a guy from Hell, he deserved a break. The worst of it was his wings were still sore. He was still getting used to his vessel but he couldn't yet call it comfortable. It felt tight around him, constricting. And he was sure Sam felt the same way. 

But he also hated how his wings felt. They moved the way he told them to, and they got him where he needed to go just fine, but they didn't feel right. It was like they weren't all there. And that was ridiculous, he knew, because he could see them clearly when he craned his neck. He could see Sam's when he peeked into the next room. But they felt almost insubstantial. Like they weren't really on earth with the rest of him. 

And his head was giving him no less trouble, though Dean knew that had nothing to do with the vessel. The more he thought about everything that had occurred, the more worried he got. After all, if Cas barely liked him, Bobby seemed to hate him, and Gabriel acted in a way that Dean couldn't gouge his opinion, then how effective could they really be in succeeding.

Everything Dean had ever known was riding on his plan working and he couldn't consider what would happen to him, to Sam, if he failed. But it kept pushing itself to the front of his mind. They would be tortured for a while. Then there names would be sullied and they would be called traitors. Then there would be more torture. By then the both of them would be begging for death. 

He couldn't let that happen. Dean could deal with all of that. He was just one angel, the only one who would miss him would be Sam anyways, and his brother would make it through. But he couldn't handle it if Sam didn't make it out alive. He was so smart, and he wanted to make it better up there. He had a shot at making it better. If they came back with a solution, then they would be promoted and Sam would have a chance.

But Dean had once again been impulsive, rescuing Cas without thinking about it. 

It the plan didn't work, every one involved would be done for. Even Cas and his friends, regardless of the good they did on a daily basis. He could let Cas in on the stakes, but what if he and the others didn't work well under stress? If they were captured and tortured by demons, Dean didn't know how they would hold out. Especially Gabriel. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly. Dean was not an idea man. He was a man of action. 

He wasn't going to worry about in anymore, he decided. Cas was going to help, he'd said so, and the man did not look like one to go back on his word. And they would apprehend who ever was killing Dean's family. Then they could go back to heaven where they would be celebrated, and Cas could go back to his normal life. Everyone would be getting a second chance.

It was all going to work out perfectly, he told himself as he paced the kitchen.

He tried to keep that in mind as he heard Sam calling him. "I'm not doing this on my own, get you ass in here," he yelled. Five minutes on earth and the little shit was already cursing like a sailor. Oops. Dean felt a smile touch his lips despite his worries.

Dean shoved everything down and joined his brother in the living room.

\-----

Cas tried very, very, hard not to listen to the commotion up front, but Bobby was very loud, and Dean certainly wasn't quiet. It wasn't as though he was embarrassed he just wished Bobby would be a little more delicate with beings who held the power to smite them all. Dean seemed like a perfectly nice angel, but angels were supposed to be wrathful, and Bobby was definitely capable of inspiring wrath. Even on his best days the man was a grump.

When the car started, he was disappointed Bobby hadn't caved. Not surprised. But disappointed. He had been curious as to how exactly Dean was going to fly the car and three men back to Bobby's. It would have been a sight to see. It also would have been better than sitting in the bed of the truck with all of their supplies. Cas was sure he was going to be sore for days after the trip. Not to mention the bruises. 

Just as he managed to get comfortable, Gabriel decided to become bored with the scenery. He turned in his seat and rested his arms on the edge of the window separating the cab and bed. "So are you and Dean-O going to be new bff's?" He asked, tapping Cas on the shoulder over and over again until he gained the man's full attention. "I mean he did give you a neat new nickname."

Cas wasn't going to respond. Usually if he ignored Gabriel long enough, the man would get bored and wander off, but he was curious. Dean had given him a nickname. No one else had ever done that. Not even Gabriel. Though admittedly, Gabriel had tried to years ago, but Cas had shut him down effectively. Back then he'd thought Gabriel would be a temporary part of his life, and he hadn't wanted to get more attached then he'd already been. 

But Dean had given him a new nickname, and Cas had to admit, he liked it. Did that mean Dean wanted to be 'bff's,' as Gabriel put it? Cas had been under the impression that it was a strictly business relationship. But he was so awful at receiving unspoken cues. Had Gabriel picked up on something that Cas had missed? He couldn't have, he'd been asleep the whole time. So had he noticed it once he'd woken? Or was he just teasing Cas the way he did so often?

"What are you talking about?" Cas finally asked, when Gabriel seemed like he was about to give up. He had such a short attention span, Cas was amazed he was still alive. There line of work required patience more often than not. 

"I'm kidding Cas, gosh. I know you want something else entirely," Gabriel assured him. He was waggling his eyebrows and Cas was sure he was missing something. 

"Something else?"

"You know, bom chika wow wow," he explained. Gabriel was fighting a smile and Cas was getting frustrated. 

"The horizontal Tango?"

"I'm not following," Cas stated seriously. Gabriel obviously didn't understand how to speak clearly. 

"Doing the dirty?" He tried. Castiel scoffed. 

"I'm very dirty," he stated, pointing to muddy boots and jeans. His response made Gabriel bite his lip and try harder. Cas was disappointed for a moment that he hadn't brought his ipod. 

"Hanky panky?"

"Gabriel I'm becoming increasingly confused. Just say what you mean in a way that I will understand." Cas pleaded.

"Bumping uglies?" Gabriel offered. He seemed to be getting too much enjoyment out of Cas' confusion.

"Bumping what?"

"Making the beast with two backs?"

"I'm not aware of any beasts with more than one back?" Cas said in the most resigned tone he could muster. Gabriel could be so ridiculous. 

"Alright, alright, never mind," Gabriel surrendered. He wore a huge grin and even though he'd given up, Cas felt like he'd lost somehow. He didn't like feeling like that so he stretched out and closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation. It had been a tedious one anyways. Gabriel could be so draining at times. 

Cas let the bumpy road lull him into a halfway state. He was on the verge of sleep, but still conscious. It would have been perfect if he had been able to shut off his mind. Dean had not joined him in the bed of the truck, so where had he gone? He mentioned flying, but that seemed far too conspicuous for it to be a viable option. Surely angels would be common place if they all flew around as they pleased. 

But how else would Dean get back to Bobby's? Walk? Run? There was no way the angel would be able to beat them on foot, no matter how fast he ran. It would be impractical too. Why waste the energy when he could relax? Except his race was dying. He probably couldn't sit still with good conscience. Cas wouldn't have been able to if Gabriel and Bobby were in danger. But Dean had already enlisted them for help, so it couldn't be that. Surely he would have wanted to save his strength for any unforeseen troubles.

Then there was the possibility that he did not want to be in the company of any of them for such an extended period of time. It was likely. Dean was a very powerful being who probably wanted to spend his time else where, in more understanding company. Or Cas could have offended him with the yelling then suddenly cold treatment. Dean most likely wasn't used to human behavior. He could have been spooked by Cas and Bobby yelling, then Gabriel being a child. 

Cas knew it tired him, why not an angel?

He was a disappointed Dean hadn't stayed, regardless. He wouldn't admit it, but he'd had many questions he'd wanted to ask Dean. Most of them involved the afterlife. His to be particular. Had he finally done enough penance? Would he be allowed in heaven? Were his parents in heaven? Would he ever meet them? What was heaven like? Were there really pearly gates that swung open upon arrival? Was there a God?

There were so many less morbid questions to ask, but those were the ones that stood at attention. Hunters had such short life spans that it wasn't odd for them to wonder about death at such a young age. Or at least Cas thought so. He'd never asked Bobby or Gabriel if those questions ever plagued them late at night. And why would he have? Cas would never answer the question honestly if either of them asked him.

They ran over a rather large bump and it jostled Cas into an upright position. Which gave Gabriel the silly idea that Cas was once again in the mood to carry on a conversation. He was not, but Gabriel was persistent. And he was somehow fitting his stocky frame through the window. Bobby was cursing and the car swerved before Gabriel fell in a heap beside Cas. 

"So, lovely weather we're having," Gabriel mentioned, leaning back. Cas looked up at the dark storm clouds still lingering in the area. 

"On the contrary, I think the weather could be much better," he mumbled. 

Then it began to pour. 

\-----

Crowley waved a hand, slamming the ginormous oak doors open. He could hardly bring himself to care about the faint splintering he heard. Inside was the dog house. He rarely entered it, couldn't stand the smell of so many hell hounds, but it was a necessary evil at the moment. He'd personally checked with the demon assigned to Castiel, and the bastard had said he'd been reassigned. Ha! Like the king of hell wouldn't know about every reassignment. 

The bloody idiot took up four hours of Crowley's time before the torture broke him and he admit to knowing how Castiel had broken out of hell. Angels. Angels were springing his souls. Well he wouldn't have it. He didn't care how many of their kind were dying, he wasn't going to stand by and let them start airlifting souls out of Hell. 

So after confirming that Castiel was indeed alive and not already in heaven, he'd decided the only way to deal with those hunters was by using his own. Crowley opened each stall, one by one, letting out his hell hounds. They were a rowdy bunch, but he'd never worried about them turning on him. They had an agreement of sorts.

The demon dropped a plaid shirt to the floor and allowed them all to get a whiff of his least favorite hunter. It was a good idea in the end to hold on to a few of the hunter's things, just in case. It seemed every demon and monster out there was lacking in back up plans when it came to him, and Crowley wasn't going to fall under that stereotype. He actually tended to think things through.

They all rushed forward at once, attempting to get to the center of the group where the hunter's scent was strongest. They all wanted to be the one to find Castiel and bring him back. He gave rewards to his most reliable hell hounds. And the more useless ones were disposed of in a quick and efficient fashion. Crowley was nothing if not economical. 

"Now boys, bring him to me. Dead or alive, I really couldn't care less." He ordered. 

With a wave of his hand, they were off. The hounds snarled growled as they clawed there way to the front of the group and Crowley felt his lips curl into a smug smile. He really was brilliant. There was no way Castiel, or any of his friends for that matter, would survive an assault from all of his hounds at once. It just wasn't possible. 

With a happy sigh, Crowley strolled out of the dog house, a spring in his step. A few days and that group of hunters would be dead and gone for good. Then he could focus his full attention on finding that spell. Who ever had it was using it, and they weren't holding back. Crowley had to admire the ruthlessness, but they had no finesse. 

There were so many uses for a spell that could kill angels. Just the thought of all the souls in heaven, just waiting to be stolen and driven to hell, it made Crowley weak in the knees. It was only a matter of time before he was king of heaven and hell. And with heaven's big boss out for the holidays, there was no better time to seize the power.

By the time the boss got back, Crowley would have power to equal even him. 

\-----

Raphael stood beside the large bay window and took in the boats docked in the harbor. It was one of his favorite pieces of heaven. The man had been remarkable wealthy and his admittance had been questionable. His heaven was a manor on the pier where he could sail or enjoy whiskey in his office whenever he pleased. Raphael found that he enjoyed it almost as much as the man. 

But he had no time to enjoy it at the moment. It was time for business. Those two blundering idiots thought they could just raise whomever they pleased from Hell and there would be no repercussions. Even if they had saved a victim, it hadn't been sanctioned, and Raphael was calling the shots. He couldn't let them get away with it, or there would be revolt. There had to be some semblance of control.

Raphael had spent so much time planning, and he'd had to kill so many of his own kind in the civil war. He wanted the bloodshed to be over. If all of the angels would just accept his status and obey him then everything would be fine. It wasn't like angels weren't made to follow orders. It was practically written into their coding.

Except for two. 

Dean and Sam though they were so sneaky, hiding out on earth with their little human hunters. It was as if they though Raphael didn't know where they were. They raised a man so that they could use him. Where else would they stay but in close proximity. It was almost too easy. But he wouldn't kill them yet. They were two of heavens best soldiers and he would have really hated to waste the talent. 

But he would have to neutralize them soon if they didn't stop. Raphael knew they were looking into the angel deaths and they were a persistent pair. They wouldn't stop until they got an answer. Then they would deliver justice. Or what they thought to be justice. They could hardly know that the deaths were necessary. 

Those who had died had openly opposed Raphael, and refused to follow his leadership. They were going to start another civil war. They were going to support Dean. What did that foot soldier know about leading heaven? Nothing. Dean was just lucky that he hadn't known about what people were thinking. If he'd known that they thought he could be more, there was a chance the angel might try to oppose him. That just wouldn't do. 

He stepped away from the window and took a seat in the plush, leather chair behind the desk. What he needed, was to convince the boys to switch sides. It would not be an easy feat, but if he could accomplish it, no one would ever oppose him again. He could be the new God. Since their father had stepped out, people needed a new on. Once enough time passed, they would forget another ever existed before Raphael. 

But if they stuck with their guns, and continued to seek out the cause of the angel deaths, Raphael would have no choice but to put them out of commission. He just could not let them live, no matter how much talent they had. The spell required a piece of their vessel that had residual grace on it, but even that would not be impossible. He had many loyal followers. 

Their deaths would work to his advantage, too. He could launch a full scale search for their killers, though he wouldn't be able to find them. There would be a deep hole in his people's hearts, for the boys were well loved. But they would heal and move on. Angels were resilient. They would survive it and be stronger for it. Yes, it would all work out according to his plan, no matter how it turned out. 

Sometimes it was so nice to be him, he thought.


	4. Angel With A Shotgun

The three of them entered Bobby's house, completely expecting the night to be a shared hallucination. At least, that was what Cas was expecting. At the very least, he hadn't been expecting Dean to be waiting for them inside, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, completely surrounded by open books. Dean hadn't seemed like the studious type, so he must have been very invested in saving his kind. 

But as much as Cas didn't expect any of that, he expected another man to be sitting beside him even less. 

When they noticed the three hunters frozen in the doorway, Dean stood, pulling a reluctant friend up with him. The man seemed to be very interested in a book. But once he stood, Cas considered taking a step back. He was very tall and very broad. His long shaggy hair and dimples made him seem a little more friendly, but Cas didn't want to take any chances. 

"Hey, I'm Sam," He extended his hand but only Gabriel stepped forward and shook it. 

"Would you be angelic too by any chance?" He asked, looking Sam up and down in a slightly inappropriate manner. Cas felt a twinge of embarrassment but it faded when Dean met his gaze and rolled his eyes. 

"I warned you about that one Sammy," He said, pulling them apart, to Gabriel's obvious dismay. "The one you have to meet, is Cas," he explained, maneuvering the new angel to stand before Cas. 

"Hello, will you be assisting us as well?" Cas questioned him. 

"Yeah, I've already got a few picked out that we need to pay special attention to," Sam said excitedly pointing to the mess all over Bobby's floor. This seemed to bring the older man out of his stupor.

"Now hold up, this is all fine and dandy, but I can't have you bringin any more angels into my house without tellin me. And those books are old and valuable. You can't just toss em' around and leave em' on the floor like that," he ranted heading straight for the whiskey. Gabriel was doing the same. 

"You want anything? Gabriel called once he'd gotten the bottle from Bobby. The man took a seat at his desk and took a great interest in the book open on it. 

"Do I ever?" Cas asked rhetorically, taking a seat on the couch. It was the only place unoccupied by books. Dean joined him and Sam returned to his seat on the floor. Gabriel leaned against the wall like it was a choice. 

"So we got a head start," Sam started explaining, grabbing at a few books. "I have a few mentions of a spell that has the power to kill an angel from afar, but none of the books mention any of the specifics, or how to track the user. I was thinking that if worst comes to worst and we don't find anything, we can adapt our own spell to suit our purposes." Sam brainstormed. 

"I knew a hunter in Oregon who tried that. It didn't end pretty for him," Bobby interjected, not looking up.

"Well it would be a last resort," Dean said, shifting his shoulder in a way that made him look like he had a twitch. Sam seemed to be doing the same, though less often. 

"Of coarse," Sam jumped in. "And we have plenty of books that I haven't even touched yet," he motioned to the hallway that lead to the library. There would certainly be enough to occupy all of their time. Cas held in a groan at the thought. He wanted to go out and kill things, not sit and read all day with Gabriel and Bobby in an enclosed space. Speaking of Gabriel.

"Why do you guys look so normal?" Gabriel interrupted. Well he hadn't really but Cas thought his questions were usually unnecessary and inappropriate, so Cas filed them under interruptions. "Shouldn't you have halos and wings?" Cas and Bobby glared at Gabriel simultaneously. "Don't tell me you guys don't have any questions for them." Cas had to admit that he did, but he'd intended to ask Dean when they weren't so occupied with saving all of the angels. Sam and Dean shared a look before the latter spoke. 

"These aren't out true forms. These are vessels." He explained, but before they could express their horror, it was clear on all of their faces, Dean continued. "Don't look at me like that. We aren't demons. We have to ask them, and we can only enter their bodies if they say yes." Cas tried to swallow his doubt. Dean had reassured him monumentally about angels, but possession was never good. His concern must have showed on his face because Dean addressed Cas alone. 

"C'mon Cas. We're the good guys." He assured the hunter. But Cas had always considered himself a good guy and he'd picked up that iron.

"Good and bad isn't always easy to discern," he muttered, decisively not looking at either angel.

"We wouldn't do anything you wouldn't," Dean said. He thought he was being comforting. Cas rubbed his temples and glanced out the window. The sky was just beginning to lighten. He almost thanked God for the excuse. 

"I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to go get some sleep," Cas excused himself, rushing for the stairs. Bobby and Gabriel, used to his odd behavior, said nothing. But Dean stood and made a move to follow him. 

"Wait Cas, I-" he began, but Cas kept walking, right up the stair and through the second door on the left. He took a deep breath and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 5:00. Yes he most definitely needed sleep. Cas stripped himself of his trench coat and boots in no time before slithering under the cool comforter. 

It was only seconds after Cas was tucked into the bed that he realized how exhausted he truly was. Sleep came easily for once.

\-----

Dean stood in the center of the room, cursing himself silently as all eyes rested on him. Cas probably thought he was evil. He was probably sitting in his room thinking about all of the terrible things demons did. Or what ever Cas seemed to think he was capable of in his own self depreciating mind. He'd thought badly of himself when he'd been a child, it had been evident in his prayers, but Dean had hoped it had gotten better. Apparently not. With a sigh, he dropped heavily onto the couch. 

He twitched his wing absentmindedly. He needed to remind himself they were still there, without the usual weight. Sam was so much more comfortable in his vessel. Dean couldn't figure out if it was because he'd been in it longer, or because he understood humans better. He hoped it was the former, because he was going to need a break from it all if it didn't get more comfortable. 

"He's like that with everyone, I wouldn't worry about it," Gabriel mentioned. He mentioned it in a casual way, but Dean could tell it bothered him more than he would ever admit. 

"He has every reason, I guess," Dean muttered, leaning his head back on the couch and pinching his nose. Cas didn't have what anyone would call an easy life. He should have expected resistance.

"What?" Gabriel asked in a dangerous tone that made Dean look up in surprise. The man had seemed so easy going Dean never would have guessed he could produce such a fierce expression. "What did he tell you?" He nearly growled. Sam shifted slightly closer to Dean. 

"Nothing, I just heard things," Dean fibbed, holding up his hands. He was pretty sure Cas would kill him if he mentioned the prayers.

"Well consider this your first and last warning. If you make Cas relive any of that, I will personally end you. I don't care how long it takes for me to find out how to kill your sorry ass." He downed his glass then stormed out of the house. Dean heard an engine rev then fade.It was completely silent for a few minutes and Dean considered stepping outside for a while to stretch his wings. 

"Looks like my assistants are dropping like flies," Bobby complained. Sammy cracked a wide grin and it was suddenly 50 times less awkward. 

They began talking about all of the super neat things in all of their old books and Dean took it as his cue to zone out. He liked to read, but the weird stuff Bobby had accumulated over the years was not his preferred genre. Sam was the book smart one anyways. Dean couldn't even begin to understand the way he got completely absorbed in things as boring as law. 

It was also kind of hard to concentrate when Dean was sure that Cas hated him. He could hear the man's breathing if he concentrated, creepy as that sounded, and he was sure Cas was sleeping, but that hardly eased his mind. Cas could have decided he hated Dean before he went to sleep. He could be dreaming about Dean dying repeatedly. 

Dean told himself he was being ridiculous. He knew he was. But Joseph had told him Cas was absolutely necessary if he was going to stop the angel deaths. There was so much resting on Cas helping them though, and what if Cas rescinded his offer because Dean offended him in some major way? Or because he thought the angel was evil? Dean couldn't handle that. 

But it was more than that. He really wanted Cas to like him for more than the obvious reason. Cas intrigued him, drew him in while pushing him away, and Dean would give anything to know everything about him. It was strange, he was the only human who had ever elicited more than a glance from Dean. He was just so endearing. He had this hard, cold exterior, but Dean could remember that little boy who used to cry himself to sleep. 

Dean knew the soft side was still in there, his soul said as much, and he wanted to be the one to tap into it for some reason. Maybe it was those big blue eyes, or the hair that gave away how little Cas actually slept. Or it could have been that every time Dean looked at Cas, he was struck by how lonely he looked with that stony expression. He just looked like he needed a good hug. Coincidentally, Dean gave great hugs.

It was just a shame that Dean knew he would never be able to do any of that. He would only be on earth to stop the killer. Not long. He would be lucky if Cas one day willingly called Dean a friend. And even then, Dean would have to go back to heaven where he would be busy picking up all of the pieces. He would blink and Cas' life would be over. But that hurt to think about. Dean was very good at pretending, so he told himself that he would protect Cas, and his friends, from all of the things that wanted to kill him. 

Suddenly, Sam jumped to his feet. He inched closer to Dean and tapped his ear once he'd gotten the angel's attention. Dean didn't understand what his brother was hearing until he concentrated. Then the sound was practically deafening. Far off, but not nearly far enough, he could hear the snarling, and barking and scraping nails of Hell hounds. 

Then Dean heard the scream.

\-----

It was pitch black at first. He couldn't see anything except for the darkness in every direction. Cas tried to move but he was frozen, somehow attached to a stone slab that felt familiar in the worst kind of way. He tried to pry himself loose, struggling to move even his pinky, but none of it was working. His heart was already racing, sweat was dripping down his spine, and that was before he caught sight of those red eyes. 

No. Cas pulled at each of his limbs and for some reason they were working. But they weren't doing what he was telling them. He was sitting up, then he was standing, but Cas was telling them to stay. To sit on the slab. He knew where the dream was going, he knew he was dreaming, and he knew he wouldn't wake up until that demon allowed him. 

It stayed in the shadows, only those red eyes were visible. But that was enough for Cas. Suddenly he was holding a red hot iron. He ordered his hand to open and let it fall to the floor. His hands were no longer his. Those disobedient feet turned without his volition. Cas was facing the second slab. It was a different person though. It wasn't the disturbed pedophile. 

It was Gabriel.

"He never guessed what was happening. He never saved you Castiel." The demon purred in his ear. "He deserves it."

And Cas knew it wasn't true. If anything, Gabriel deserved the hot iron less than anyone Cas knew. But he had no control. He was walking toward that slab where his best friend, a man he considered a brother, was lying. Gabriel turned his head and spotted Cas earlier then the other boy had. Cas felt a twinge of guilt that he didn't even know the boy's name. 

But he couldn't linger on that any longer. Gabriel held his full attention. He didn't know why he hadn't been forced to take the iron to Gabriel's flesh yet, but he was grateful, until Gabriel started getting scared. He noticed the iron, then the fact that he couldn't move. Cas had to watch as the fear slowly crept into his eyes then evolved into full blown panic.

"Castiel? What are you doing? What's going on? Please don't! No! God, please no!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as Cas slowly pressed the iron into the man's skin. Gabriel became incoherent, his screams and sobs blending together as Cas watched his skin blister. His body pressed it deeper. Let it burn straight through Gabriel's clothes. 

All the while the demon burrowed inside Cas' ear, whispering how very much Gabriel deserved every second.

\------

Cas woke himself with his screams. His throat was hoarse and his neck hurt, he realized, from scratching. No, clawing. He had been clawing at his neck and chest, his button down, ripped half open. His hands were shaking, he felt tears gathering in his eyes, and he was covered in sweat. Unfortunately, none of the symptoms were new to him.

Dean kneeling beside his bed and staring at him with eyes the size of dinner plates was new. Cas jumped half a foot in the air, and clutched his chest out of reflex. Someday one of his friends was going to give him a heart attack. It took him another minute before he was calm enough to articulate words, but Dean and his impossible eyes were patient. 

"What are you doing here?" Cas asked roughly. Dean's forehead crinkled in confusion.

"I heard you scream," he said slowly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine, thank you, but I think it would be for the best if you left," Cas suggested as kindly as he could manage. Dean didn't budge, though he looked torn.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" He clarified.  
+  
Cas nodded. He was fighting a deep embarrassment and it got worse every second Dean stayed in his room. Well, the room he usually used when staying at Bobby's. But the fact that Dean had witnessed him at his weakest, it made Cas feel sick. Sure the angel had heard all of his prayers, but those were spoken years ago. Cas was supposed to have gotten better. 

Dean stood reluctantly. Cas hid his relief. Dean had his hand on the door knob, when they heard the howl. It was followed by at least half a dozen similar howls. Both men stiffened and Cas felt his blood run cold. He could pick out that sound anywhere. And if there were several hounds coming, that could only mean one thing. Crowley. 

"Cas, maybe you should get dressed," advised him, pulling a strange metal blade from his shirt. He didn't need to be told twice. He tugged on his boots and trench coat then began searching for his demon blade. He'd acquired it a year or two ago off a demon who'd thought he would actually align himself with her. But he couldn't seem to find it. With a groan, he realized it was in his duffle, in the truck. 

"Cas it's fine, you don't need a weapon," Dean assured him. "I'm going to protect you," he said with a huge grin. 

Cas realized it was a nice gesture and he believed the angel and his easy smile. But he also believed in being competent, and not needing to be protected. He didn't need to be coddled, He could take care of himself. He carefully ignored the fact that he died and went to hell the one time Gabriel left him alone. Cas settled for his regular knife, just in Dean wasn't as good as he claimed, then began pacing. 

"Where are Bobby and Gabriel?" He asked, freezing in place. He needed to protect them They were down stairs unaware of the danger. He started towards the door, but Dean blocked him. 

"Don't worry, Sam will take care of them. We already knew they were coming. But I can protect you better from here, so just stay please." Dean begged. Cas wanted to go downstairs and protect his family. But Dean was looking at him and he really just wanted to protect Cas. He couldn't fault the angel for that. He probably didn't want to go to the trouble of bringing him back to life again if he died. Cas plopped down the bed with a grimace. 

Dean smiled brightly at him, and for a minute, Cas couldn't look away. Cas was only able to tear his eyes away when he heard the scratching on the wood floors, then a something slammed against the closed door of his bedroom. Cas tightened his grip on his knife and felt his heart rate climb. It was just another fight. Like all of the others. Except the monsters were invisible.

"I can see them, so just listen in case one gets past me," Dean shouted over the increasingly loud hounds outside the door. Cas was momentarily shocked by how easily Dean had been guessing Cas' thoughts. Maybe it was an angel power. They would have to speak about that later. The door was straining against the hinges. Dean took a deep breath and swung it open, holding his blade out. 

There was instantly more noise than he could handle. Dean was dodging invisible creatures, hacking here, stabbing there. Black blood sprayed everywhere, and he could faintly hear yelling downstairs. Dean took a massive scratch to the chest. He stumbled back a few steps in shock, but recovered and made quick work of his assailant. He hoped Bobby and Gabriel were safe with Sam. It helped that he hadn't heard any screaming.

Cas tucked his legs under him and scooted back so he could lean against the headboard so a hound wouldn't be able to come at him from behind. Dean, it appeared, could not be killed by the hell hounds. The wounds on his chest had already healed, and Cas could see the smooth skin beneath his shredded shirt. He watched as Dean expertly took care of how ever many hell hounds stormed into his room. Cas couldn't tell. Soon it was silent, and Dean dropped his strange blade onto Cas' bed side table. 

"Told you I would protect you," Dean said smugly as he examined his ruined shirt. He wasn't even winded. 

Cas wondered if it was the act of heroism that made him realize how very attractive Dean was. He stared, well he tried not to, as Dean removed his shirt and tossed it in a waste bin by the door. His face and chest were covered in black blood. "Do you have a shirt I could use?" Dean asked, turning toward Cas like it was totally normal to just hang around with out a shirt on, covered in blood, after killing those hounds. Cas felt like maybe he was fixating on that no shirt thing, just a little. 

"In the closet," he muttered forcing his eyes to the window. The sun was up, there were no clouds in the sky, and for some reason, there was a shirtless angel in Cas' room. Cas had seen shirtless men before, but Dean was shockingly perfect. Had Dean just gone out and picked the most attractive vessel he could find? Or was that just an after affect of being occupied by an angel? Cas smothered a smile, he very much wanted to be occupied by that angel.

"Thanks," Dean said, pulling back Cas' attention. "Let's go check on Sammy and them." Cas noticed his shirt was a little small on Dean as the angel waited in the doorway. He was staring at Cas oddly, twirling his blade in hi hand. "You coming?" Cas nodded and stood, clearing his head. 

He banished the thoughts about Dean and followed him down the stairs. He was probably just sleep deprived. Cas thought he had gotten 4 hours of sleep maybe since he came back from Hell. He just needed to go to a bar, exhaust himself with some random stranger, than focus on saving the angels. Besides, what were the chances he was going to have to see Dean shirtless again? 

Downstairs, Gabriel and Bobby were sitting on the couch, two shot guns sat beside them. When they noticed Cas and Dean descending the stairs they sagged into the couch and Gabriel smiled. Cas had to admit he was relieved to see they were okay. He hadn't wanted to doubt Sam's abilities, but he'd been worried there wouldn't just be black blood in the carpet. 

"Glad to see your in one piece, Cas," Sam said as he exited the kitchen dirty cloth in hand. He wiped his face, removing the blood, and tossed it to Dean wjo accepted it gratefully. "Dean doesn't have the skills I do," Sam claimed. Dean scoffed. 

"I outrank you," Dean mentioned, tossing the towel onto a chair. 

"I don't know Dean-O, he was pretty impressive with those knives. Sam didn't even need our help." Gabriel defended. Although Cas thought maybe he was just saying that to bother Dean. He headed into the kitchen He hadn't eaten in a while and he would be able to hear the bickering from there. Dean didn't respond until Cas was already rooting through the refrigerator. 

"Blades. He needs two to defend himself. I took care of the hounds upstairs with one and Cas didn't need to jump in," Dean bragged. He had been very capable. Cas settled on a bowl of milk and cereal. There was even Lucky charms, since no one but him ate it. He tended to have a sweet tooth in the morning. 

"But you did sustain an injury," Cas added as he took a seat on the floor and shoved down a spoon full of marshmallows. Dean gave him an exasperated look that he didn't quite understand. 

"Cas what happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors," Dean said. Sam gave Cas a thumbs up. 

"Oh no, Cas tell us more," Gabriel insisted, leaning forward. Cas swallowed and looked up, but Dean was making hand gestures, ones that he assumed meant to do the opposite, so he shut his mouth. 

"So it's unanimous, I'm the best," Dean stated with finality. "Now anybody have a clue why someone would send hell hounds after us?"

"Well I thought it was obvious. Crowley sent them." Cas explained, all eyes on him. 

"But why, he already killed you?" Gabriel asked. 

"Maybe he wanted him to stay dead," Bobby stated. 

"So then he must know we're here," Sam interjected. 

"If he knew, he wouldn't have sent so few," Dean said, taking a seat on the floor beside Cas. 

"Great, Crowley still wants to kill us, surprise, surprise. Can we please talk about something more interesting? I personally, have wanted to question the two angels in my living room all night," Gabriel ranted. 

"Fine but make it quick," Dean allowed easily enough. Cas suspected he just didn't want to continue the research.

"Okay, what's God like?" Gabriel asked first. Cas didn't agree with his methods, but he had to admit he was curious. 

"I've never met him. He skipped town a while back and no one has heard from him since." Dean smiled easily but Cas saw something in the way his eyes hardened that made him think Dean was more than a little hurt. 

"What about heaven? Am I gonna get to put my feet up and drink a beer?" Bobby surprised them by asking. Dean shrugged.

"If you want. Every soul gets their own slice of heaven, and every single one is different. And sometimes, two people can share a heaven if it's a mutual desire, but it doesn't happen all that often."

"What about you guys? Do you get any action up there or is it against the rules?" Gabriel asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Gabriel, that is incredibly inappropriate!" Cas scolded him. He could be so rude. 

"It's okay Cas," Dean said through a chuckle. "Our real bodies aren't built like that, we don't have the equipment. And all of the angels are brothers and sisters. I couldn't even think that way about any of them."

"So now that you guys are in human bodies,-" Gabriel began to ask, but thank god, sam interrupted him. Cas had been curious, how could he not be, but he had never intended to ask. That wasn't something you could just ask as if it was no big deal. 

"Maybe we should get back to researching," Sam suggested. He'd moved to the corner of the room when everyone had been so focused on Dean. Or maybe that had only been Cas. Sam had a book open on his lap and a frown on his face. Dean sighed and soon he wore the same expression. 

"Sammy's right, lets get to it," he said, grabbing his own book off of the stack nearest to him. Cas and the others followed suit, though Gabriel wore a pout. When the room had fallen completely silent, Sam spoke.

"Don't call me Sammy."

\-----

Crowley felt it when the first hound died.

They were his charges. He knew where they were at all times, and he could always tune into their howls. While it didn't happen often, Crowley was familiar with the sound his hounds made when they died. He listened as the sound resonated with him over and over again. And to say he was angry would have been an understatement. Clearly if he wanted something done, he had to do it himself. 

But first, he had to find out how the hell they'd killed all of his hounds.

\-----

Dean was skimming one of his books, when Bobby got up yet again. First it had been breakfast, then one of them had to go to the bathroom. Then another one did. It seemed exhausting to be human. And they read so much slower. When Cas had finished his first book, Dean was already on his eighth. He couldn't imagine how any of them were going to be able to help Dean and Sam when they did everything so slow, and they had so many needs.

Then there was Cas. He was sitting beside Dean reading like a diligent little student, but he could barely stay awake. Dean kept noticing when the man would rub his eyes, or jerk himself awake. He clearly hadn't been getting much sleep since he'd gotten back from Hell. Dean told himself he didn't care how much sleep the hunter got, it wasn't any of his business. But he figured if Cas didn't sleep, then the man couldn't be much help to the angels.

"I think I found something," Cas said softly obviously still reading. But everyone had heard, and they were all waiting for him to continue. "This one mentions a spell that has the power to extinguish an angel's life. It doesn't name the spell or what is required to perform it, but it says it's found on something called an angel tablet. Does that sound at all familiar to either of you?" Cas asked, looking between the resident angels. 

Dean glanced at his brother and felt his panic from across the room. There was no way that could be true. If it was, that meant there was someone out there who had a tablet with everything there was to know about angels, and a prophet to read it to him or her. But if that was the case, then where the hell was the archangel who was supposed to be protecting the current prophet. 

"A tablet is basically the word of God. The angel tablet would have almost everything there is to know about angels on it. But no one can read it but a prophet, and there is only one prophet alive at a time. The current one is Kevin Tran, although if he was in any danger, an archangel would step in and protect him. So there is no way that it's that." Sam explained, giving Dean a reassuring look. But Cas didn't seem swayed, and that didn't do anything for the feeling in the pit of Dean's stomach. 

"But what if the person getting Kevin to decipher the tablet isn't posing a threat. They could be human, or posing as a friend. And Kevin could think that it is all fake." Cas argued. Dean hated how rational it sounded. 

"We should at least check it out. It's our only lead." Dean admit. But he was already praying to his absent father that it would be a dead end. Sam probably was too. 

"I can go, while the rest of you continue to research." Cas offered. Dean saw him sway as he stood, and he knew he wasn't going to let him go alone. 

"I'll go with you," he offered, also standing.

"I think you would be of more use if you stayed here," Cas said. Dean tried not to be hurt, Cas liked to do things alone. He knew that. 

"Then how are you going to find the prophet?" Dean challenged him, crossing his arms. He tried not to think about how every one in the room was watching them.

"You can barely stand, just take the damn angel." Bobby scolded him. 

"Yeah and the last time you went somewhere alone, you got a snapped neck and a first class ticket to hell." Gabriel added with a knowing grin.

"And someone still wants you dead, based on how many hell hounds showed up." Sam said. 

"Fine, Dean can come." Cas gave in. Dean grinned triumphantly. 

"I wanna go," Gabriel whined from the couch. Dean rolled his eye. That guy was such an idiot. 

"Too bad, no more room," he said, shrugging his shoulders as if there was nothing more he could do. And there wasn't. Dean was determined to get some time with Cas. 

He had to admit, he was pretty excited to be going on a road trip just the two of them. It would be the perfect time for them to bond. He wanted to get to know Cas and he wanted them to be friends, not just business partners. Dean couldn't explain it, but he wanted to understand Cas, and be someone that he trusted more than anything in the world. Well, except for saving his kind. 

Maybe if he opened up about something, Cas would tell him about the nightmares. Dean was sure he was avoiding sleeping so he wouldn't have them. And they were probably Hell oriented. Unfortunately, no one ever came back unscathed. But if Dean got him to talk about it, he might feel better. Then he would tell Dean other things, like the things Gabriel didn't want him bringing up, and they could be real friends. 

Dean realized he was fixating on the idea. He wondered when he'd gotten so caught up in Cas liking him. It wasn't like him to be so easily distracted from a mission, especially one that was so important. He needed to get his head in the game. They were only going to find Kevin. And first they needed to figure out where Kevin was. They couldn't pop up to heaven to find out. 

"Now all we have to do is find Kevin." Sam said, reading Dean's mind. 

"We could always check his house," Cas said. Obviously. 

"Great, we can head out as soon as your ready Cas." Dean said. Cas didn't respond. He just pulled his keys from his pocket and headed for the door. 

Dean jogged to catch up to him, sure the man would leave him if he didn't hurry.


	5. Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long, but I made this one a tiny bit longer to try and make it up to you. I'm still on the fence about whether or not there should be Sabriel, so maybe you guys can tell me whether or not you want it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Cas wasn't psychic. He didn't have and kind of sixth sense, and he never claimed to have any powers. But somehow he knew. He could feel Dean's eyes on him as he pulled out of Bobby's drive way and set the GPS to Kevin's address, which was not all that difficult to google. Cas was just glad he had a great poker face, because it was making him very uncomfortable, the way he was sure Dean was studying him. He didn't think he had anything on his face, so he couldn't understand why.

But Cas had never been one to confront things that made him uncomfortable, so he ignored it. He didn't talk to Dean, and Dean didn't talk to him. It suited him well enough since Cas preferred silence. There was less of a chance of him not understanding something, or him saying the wrong thing. He never let on, but it really bothered him how often that happened.

Gabriel said it was cute, endearing. Bobby said it was how Cas was, and he wouldn't have the boy any other way. But Cas just thought there was something wrong with him. After all, his ex always said he needed help. And not in a good way. But Cas didn't like thinking about Uriel. It just hurt. Lately it didn't seem like Cas had any happy memories at all. He remembered how Dean looked after killing those hounds, his cocky grin. Maybe he did need to think about Uriel.

Dean was an angel. Not only was he off limits, but Dean didn't even have the equipment. Well he did, but he said himself that he didn't think that way. Or maybe he hadn't when he'd been in his original form, but wasn't being human different? Cas didn't know, he just felt this unsettling feeling in his stomach when he thought about Dean functioning like a human down stairs.

He shook the though away and forced himself to remember Uriel. Right after he and Gabriel had turned 18 and left that house, Cas had met Uriel at some coffee shop. They'd bonded over their strange names, and it hadn't been long before the man had gotten his number, and strong armed Cas into a date. It was fun, and Cas thought it could work. Besides, Gabriel had already threatened the man.

But then it got serious, and Cas moved in with him. Uriel got angry about everything. He was mad when Cas didn't understand something, or when he didn't want to go out, or when he didn't want to open up about his past. It never got violent, but Cas dealt with the verbal abuse, for months before he finally called Gabriel on his nineteenth birthday. Uriel had said things that crossed every line. Gabriel, of coarse, got in a few hits before Cas could drag him and his bag out the door. The memory almost made Cas cringe.

Life got a little better after that though. In the year that Cas had been with Uriel, Gabriel had been working with a man, Bobby Singer, in his garage, and he'd found out something strange while there. Bobby had all of these papers and books about monsters always lying around. He was always getting calls from friends, and when he would eavesdrop, he would over hear Bobby telling people how to kill certain things. Then there were the men and women always coming through with the strangest injuries, never wanting to go to the hospital.

Gabriel was smart, he figured it out.

Bobby didn't want them in it, hunting never did any good for any one was what he would tell them, but they insisted once Cas was sure Gabriel wasn't joking. All his life he'd wanted to help people, make up for all of the trouble he caused Naomi, Gabriel, and sometimes, when he was feeling low, Uriel. And he also had this anger inside of him that he didn't understand. Like even if he had been terrible, he hadn't deserved the abuse. So killing monsters seemed like a dream job.

Except after a while the anger died down and was replaced by this hole Cas couldn't fill with killing, liquor, or one night stands. The job hurt a lot more than he had initially thought it would. It wasn't so bad, knowing he would never have a regular life, Cas had never expected one. Especially after Uriel, he used the job as an excuse not to hone his people skills.

Hunters normally had a short life span and that suited Cas just fine too. He didn't want to die, and he wouldn't have taken his own life, but at times, he didn't want to exist in the world either. So if he tried his hardest to survive and help people, then when he died hunting, it would be okay. People would have expected it. It was a deadly career choice.

But then there were the people he couldn't save. He often wondered how much good he actually did, because he saw so many dead. And if that wasn't enough, he also had to deal with the loss of his friends. Adam was hard to take, he was so young. And then there was Ash, Ellen, and Joe. He'd just started to get close to them when the roadhouse had been burned down by demons. There hadn't been any survivors.

Unfortunately, Cas knew he was in too deep to ever come out of hunting.

"As fun as this silence is, it isn't." Dean broke through Cas' thoughts. He looked terribly bored and Cas almost felt bad. Except he wasn't supposed to be feeling anything for Dean.

"You can turn on the radio," Cas suggested. He tried not to look at Dean, but he saw the disappointment out of the corner of his eye.

"Or you could tell me about your dream," Dean countered hopefully. Cas was surprised he was still thinking about that.

"I don't think that would be for the best," he said carefully.

Cas glued his eyes to the road and tried not to think about how tempting it would be to open up to Dean about his time in Hell. Cas thought he would be the first one to confide in about the ordeal. But Dean was also the one who's judgement would hurt the most. Bobby and Gabriel would tell him he'd had a moment of weakness, it happened to the best. But Dean would be honest, Cas was sure about that.

"C'mon Cas. I saved you, you owe me," he argued, clasping his hands together.

"I don't think that is the case. I'm assisting with your dilemma so that would make us even." Cas stated.

"Fine, then as a favor to your new friend?" Dean asked with wide eyes. Cas looked at him for longer than he should have. Dean's pleading face was adorable. No. Even so, he only looked away when he was sure he would swerve off the road if he didn't. Well he did want to be friends with Dean, and friends shared things. And Dean couldn't offer anything more than friendship, not that Cas wanted that. But he couldn't let the words out. He'd spent so long keeping things in.

"Okay, how about this," Dean began when he saw the look on the hunter's face. "I'll tell you something about me, then you tell me about your dream." Then Dean started his story before Cas could agree with anything. He just wouldn't tell Dean afterward. It wasn't like they'd shaken on it or anything. He couldn't force the knowledge from Cas.

"It all started a few years back. Some angels started whispering about how God had left. Most of the others didn't believe the rumors, I sure as hell didn't. But the Joshua, the one who speaks to God the most often, confirmed it. The angels were devastated, Sammy and I were too. Our father, he abandoned us, he didn't give a reason or any orders. And Heaven quickly turned into chaos."

"Angels were created to follow orders, it was our main function. Without a leader, most had a hole in them that they could not fill. Some scrambled to take power, others got behind a higher up, looking to them for direction. Soon all angels were taking sides and heaven was beginning to look like a civil war would erupt. Sammy and I tried to stay out of it. We were hoping that everything would work out and there wouldn't be any need for blood shed."

"We were wrong. Soon enough, there were only two major powers in heaven. Raphael and Metatron. Sammy and, I along with a few others, were forced to choose a side to support. Raphael wanted to rule Heaven and all of it's angels, but Metatron wanted to banish all of the angels except for a select few. We figured Raphael was the lesser of the two evils, so we supported him."

"Unfortunately, that meant war. I was forced to kill so many angels, my brothers and sisters. Our numbers were cut in half after the civil war, and Metatron was exiled. We kept under the radar after the war, took time to mourn our fallen brethren. Then more angels started to die. Raphael refused to take action, so we sought out Joshua, rebelled, and sprung you from Hell. Now here we are."

Dean looked over at Cas with an expression that was not entirely as happy as Dean's usually were. His eyes looked so sad. Cas knew it had to have killed him to lose his father, hurt his own, leave his home. He was sure the angel felt more guilt and grief than Cas could ever know. He wanted more than anything to take that sadness from Dean. But he always said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing. It made him look away.

"I'm sorry about your father," Cas offered. He didn't know what else to say. Apparently it had been the correct thing.

"Thanks, Cas. At first, I didn't know what to do, and I felt so hurt and angry and betrayed. I bottled it all up for a long time, but eventually, Sam got me talking. Once he did, I started to feel better. Now I'm just sad that he left. I mean, he must have had his reasons. I just miss knowing he's there," Dean confessed.

Cas nodded. "Thank you for telling me." Dean's smiled softly at Cas.

Cas just wanted to tell him how much he understood. Dean had heard Cas pray as a child, and Dean understood the sting of abandonment that Cas had been living with his entire life. But he didn't know about the guilt. He didn't know about Hell. Cas wanted to share that with him, make him feel like there was someone who understood, just a little. And Cas wanted it for himself too. He knew that it was selfish but he wanted that connection with someone who had the same feelings that he did. After spending a lifetime holding things in, it was almost nice to think he could talk and be open about something.

"I was dreaming about Hell," Cas blurted out, when he caught sight of Dean's patient face. It was so open to anything.

"I get these horrific night mares about being on the block again, just like before, and sometimes they're torturing me, but sometimes its different. In my nightmare last night, I had no control over my body. I had to pick up that iron and walk over to the block next to my own. Gabriel was lying on it, begging me not to do it, but I couldn't stop. My body kept hurting him of it's own volition." Cas explained, pushing it all out quickly before he could change his mind, take it all back. Once the words were out he wanted to take it back. He didn't dare look at Dean. It wasn't a confession, but it was very close.

"Why do you think you did that?" Dean asked neutrally. He acted like he didn't know what happened.

"When I was in Hell," Cas said hesitantly. "A demon tortured me for what felt like forever. Then I would blink and my body would be restored, not a single scratch on it. Then it would return with a new tool and start a new. I thought I had a high thresh hold for pain but I was so weak. After one day, the demon offered me an iron and told me that if I pressed it to another, I wouldn't ever have to get back on that block. I would never be cut up again."

"The man he told me to hurt, the demon said he deserved it. That he did terrible things to little girls and I believed him. I got up and I pressed that iron to his skin, watched it bubble, smelled it burn, heard his screams. I did that to him. He looked so young. I could see the demon smiling at me in approval. Then I dropped the iron as though I'd been burned."

"The demon grabbed it up and forced it back into my hand. He told me I had to finish what I started. I realize I could have stopped, but I was so scared then. I was terrified of getting back on that block. And every scream the boy made as I hurt him only terrified me more. Before I knew it there was a small table beside me, it was covered in tools. I hurt that boy in so many ways. I can never make up for it."

"After that, the demon assumed I would be torturing again. I refused. I stretched out on that block and took everything he dealt gladly. I needed to be punished for the pain that I had caused. I deserved every second of it, and I didn't deserve to be saved. I still don't feel as though I've made up for it. How can you ever make up for torturing someone like that?" Cas asked. He stopped at a red light and looked over at Dean, begging for an answer. All he wanted was to not feel like he deserved something good. Like being saved.

"Cas pull over," Dean demanded. Cas did so willingly, he didn't want to drive while Dean lectured him. Dean was already turning in his seat towards Cas with a very serious face when Cas turned off the car.

"Now listen Cas, because I'm only going to say this once. What happened down there, it wasn't your fault. You made a mistake, then you owned up to it and made up for it. You deserved to be saved. I promise." He said surely. Cas almost believed him. He had that determined look in his eye that made it seem like he could never be wrong.

"But I can't get passed it. I see it when I blink, when I sleep. Hell is everywhere." Cas explained softly. "My 'mistake' wont stop following me." He looked out the windshield. Dean was staring at him intensely and it was making him squirm.

"That's because you won't forgive yourself," Dean said. Cas tapped his hands on the steering wheel.

"I know that, but how do I do it?" Cas asked, frustration leaking into his voice.

"Well you're going to have to figure that out for yourself." Dean advised him. "But I'm here for you if you need me," he added, clapping Cas on the shoulder.

Cas felt warm at the friendly gesture. Dean was there for her. So were Bobby and Gabriel, but they didn't understand, not the way Dean seemed to. They understood the life of a hunter, and they both shouldered that solidly. Cas couldn't give them another thing to worry about. Before he knew it they would be keeping tabs on him and asking over and over again if he needed anything.

"Thank you Dean, I am very grateful," Cas said honestly. He met Dean's eyes and felt himself relax.

He extended his hand to start the car, but Dean's shot out to stop him. "No way Cas. I'm driving from here. You are getting some sleep." Dean stated. He got out of the car and opened Cas' door for him, making it clear this was nonnegotiable.

Cas wanted to protest. He was a grown man and he could drive a car for a few hours. He didn't need anyone taking care of him. But he did feel exhausted. And if he was going to be any help, he needed to be well rested. And Dean was looking so stern that Cas didn't think anything would change his mind short of an order from God himself. So with a heavy sigh, he got out and went to the passenger side.

He didn't miss Dean's smug expression.

Once he was settled, the car rumbled to life and Dean pulled back onto the road. Cas wanted to ask how Dean knew how to drive a car, but his eyes already felt so heavy, and he couldn't imagine opening his mouth. Dean turned on some old school music, leaving it low. Cas hummed along quietly as it lulled him to sleep. His last thought was of Dean, touching his arm.

\-----

Sam leafed through another book from his place, sprawled out on the floor. He couldn't really concentrate on it though. He was worried about leaving Dean all alone. He could feel where his brother was, and they could communicate, but he hadn't been on earth long, and Sam didn't want to be apart. He'd only refrained from tagging along because he knew how badly Dean wanted to connect with Castiel. His brother really wanted them to be friends.

Sam smiled to himself and shifted. He'd wanted to lie on his back, but his brain just wouldn't let him. He knew his wings weren't on the same plane but the idea still made him uneasy. He wondered if Dean was feeling the same. He hadn't let on and Sam was worried he was the only one feeling strange in his human vessel. His skin felt too tight and he felt limited somehow.

Were some angel's just better at adjusting to possession?

It wasn't too much of a stretch. Dean was good at everything. He was a soldier, a brother, and charming, though Sam would never admit that. There was just something about him that drew people, and angels, to him. Sam was actually kind of jealous of it sometimes. He made it look easy, making friends, and he was sure Cas would give in eventually too. No one could resist Dean.

"What's got you smiling goldilocks?" Gabriel asked from his perch. He was hanging upside down from the couch and Sam knew he couldn't have been reading. A few more minutes and the man would have a raging head ache.

"Just The History of Citations of Prophets And Their Writings," Sam offered with a tight smile. Not even he could find it enjoyable. Gabriel laughed and sat up.

"I can do you one better. I got stuck with Highlights in the History of Museum Artifacts of 18th Century London." Gabriel complained, holding up his book as proof.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were looking for any other mentions of that spell. But if you princesses want to sit and talk all day, then by all means, go for it," Bobby interrupted from his place at his desk. He hadn't even looked up from his book.

"Bobby, why do you even have this? What does it have to do with hunting?" Gabriel asked, completely un-phased. Bobby looked up and glared at him.

"A hunter needed some info about a cursed object that originated from London," Bobby explained. "Now if you're so bored, do us all a favor and go get some coffee. I'm running on empty," he muttered.

Gabriel jumped up at the suggestion and Sam could see his relief. It still amazed him how very emotional humans could be. Angels of course felt some emotions, but even then, they weren't open about them the way humans did. Humans practically lived for talking about them. Who pissed them off yesterday at work, how happy they were with their new partner.

"You coming?" Gabriel asked as he pulled on his jacket. Sam assumed he'd meant him and not Bobby. The older man reading something intently, so Sam stood and brushed himself off. He never turned down the opportunity to watch humans go about their days.

"As riveting as my book was, I think I need a break." Sam said standing and meeting Gabriel by the door. The man was impatiently jingling his keys.

"Great lets get out of here before Bobby changes his mind," he muttered, leading his way out to the car. Sam admired it briefly.

He though Dean would have liked it, all sleek and black. Although he'd never heard of an Impala before. He would have to ask him later if it was a good model. Sam appeared inside, not surprised to see wrappers and trash everywhere. Gabriel hadn't seemed like the clean type, but that car was a mess. He was surprised by how un-phased Gabriel seemed by his little trick. When he opened the door and slid in, it was almost as though he'd expected Sam to do that. Angels just weren't meant to be tricksters.

"So lets be honest," Gabriel started as the car roared to life. "How safe is Castiel with that brother of yours?" Gabriel asked as he backed out. Sam was taken by surprise. Of all of the questions Gabriel could have asked, that one was the most ridiculous. Who would possibly doubt Dean's abilities as a protector?

"Safer than you could imagine," Sam replied without hesitating.

"Good. I would imagine finding a way to kill angels would be really time consuming," Gabriel said non challantly. Sam had to fight a chill. There was no way he would find out about angel blades unless one of them told him, but he was still unnerved by the man's seriousness.

"So you and Castiel are brothers?" Sam asked to fill the awkward space. What else could you say after a death threat?

"Yeah, but not by blood. We were in the same foster home. Didn't you know?" He asked, seemingly focused on the road.

"Dean insisted that I not pry into your pasts." Sam explained. But he'd wanted to so badly. It had to interesting or Dean wouldn't have deemed it off limits. Gabriel nodded and didn't speak again for several minutes.

"So those guys were really willing?" He asked as he parked in front of a Starbucks. It took Sam embarrassingly long to realize he was talking about the vessels.

"Of course, they prayed for it," he said appearing beside Gabriel who was stepping out of his side. The man didn't even flinch.

"Can you fell him tucked away up there?" He held the door open for Sam, probably afraid the angel would just appear inside if he didn't.

"I can feel his consciousness, but he isn't aware of what is going on the way people who are possessed by demons are. It's like he's taking a nice, long nap," Sam explained. The place was dim and there were comfy chairs everywhere, all occupied. Sam kind of liked the feel of it. He could imagine curling up with a book and not coming out until the management forced him to leave. Gabriel took his place at the end of a very long line and dropped his voice.

"So do you guys have urges, like eating, sleeping, getting it on?" Sam looked away. The man really had no filter at all.

"We don't have human needs." He replied shortly. He was not going to get into it with this hunter about what changed when an angel took a vessel. They were of course capable of new things, such as lust, but that wasn't anything he had to know. "Bummer," he said, letting his eyes drift over Sam before turning to the menu above the counter.

Sam didn't really know what to do with that.

\-----

Maybe it was the fact that Cas had opened up to Dean, or maybe his brain just didn't want to give him a break, but for some reason, Cas dreamed about his first night at that house. He was sprawled out on the hardwood floor, suitcase on the floor just out of reach of his hand. The woman had tripped him, though at the time Cas had thought it had been accidental.

He jumped to his feet and brushed off his pants. He picked up his suitcase. The woman before his scared him and he looked down at his shoes. She had to be nice to have such a nice house, he had told himself. But still, he couldn't look at her. She seemed on the verge of dolling out a punishment, and Castiel had had enough of those to last a lifetime.

"I'm sorry," He mumbled. The woman made a disapproving noise and lifted Castiel's face with thin fingers. Her nails bit into his skin.

"Address me, not your shoes. Don't mumble, enunciate. You will address me as Naomi or ma'am." She said coldly. There was not time for a response because she was climbing the stairs quickly. "Come with me."

Castiel's knees hurt but he didn't think it was a very good time to bring that up. He dragged his suitcase to the edge of the stairs and struggled to lift it up one step at a time as Naomi continued on. At the first landing, she waited with crossed arms and a look of disdain on her pale face. Castiel watched sadly as she began climbing another set of stairs. It took him a bit longer to make it up that flight. Even longer to make it up the third flight. He'd never been inside a house with so many stairs.

She led him down a long hallway with half a dozen doors on each side. But they walked past all of the. At the end of the hallway, she pulled a ladder down from the ceiling. She didn't climb up, but moved aside so Castiel could. He tried not to show how scared he was. It looked dark up there, where ever it was the ladder lead. Castiel was afraid of the dark. There were monsters and things.

"Your room is up there. You will keep it tidy, and your bed made at all times." She stated motioning to the steps.

"Yes ma'am," Castiel said clearly. He didn't need to be told twice.

But Castiel really didn't want to go up there. He tested the first step and nearly jumped back at the loud creak it emitted. It didn't sound like it could hold the suitcase's weight, let alone the boy's. But Naomi's glared urged him on. He slowly made his way up, pulling the suitcase after him. When he stepped into the attic, the stairs snapped up and a lock clicked.

Castiel jumped in fear and hugged his suitcase. It was dark. As dark as he had though it would be. The attic was quite large, and there were a few boxes shoved in the corners. It was dusty enough that Castiel felt the urge to sneeze. He could hear faint scuttling on the floor, and had to squeeze his eyes shut at the sound. It most definitely was not a monster, he told himself. Just mice. But that didn't help much, because he wasn't a fan of mice either.

He forced his legs to carry him toward the far wall, where a cot was waiting. Beside it was a monstrous dresser, and above the bed was a small window, though it was covered with a curtain. He dropped his suitcase and rushed to the window, praying nothing caught him on the way. He had to kneel on his bed to reach the window. He pushed the curtains aside and was met with a small rectangular window that looked out at the front of the house. There was a window sill that he rested his arms on and placed his chin on his hands.

He turned around and thought it wasn't so bad with light. The sun illuminated most of the attic, including the dust, leaving only a few dark corners that Castiel carefully didn't look at. But there was a lot of space. Castiel had never had his own room before, or much space to play. So it wasn't so bad, he told himself. And if he was in the attic, that meant all of the other rooms were full. There was bound to be at least one child that would accept him.

He got off of the creaking cot with a hopeful grin and began putting away his clothes in the dresser. He couldn't reach the top drawers so he started from the bottom up. He was only able to fill one drawer at the very bottom with all of his clothing. The second drawer, he filled with his books. He had read them all already and there weren't many, but they still comforted him. Kind people had given him those books.

He sat and read at the foot of his bed until there was no longer enough light to see by and his stomach was growling. He checked the ladder to see if he could lower it himself, and go downstairs for dinner, but it was stuck. He had thought he'd heard Naomi lock it. But what about dinner? Did she forget about him or was she intentionally keeping him locked away? Was it punishment for falling before?

Castiel whimpered and scurried back to his cot. He wanted to pick his book up off the floor and put it in the drawer but it was dark, and what if there was something under his bed. There was a quilt folded at the foot of his bed and a pillow on top of it. Castiel made his bed then burrowed underneath his covers. Nothing could hurt him, he told himself every time he thought he heard a noise. When he felt his eyes getting heavy, Castiel sat up and knelt in front of his window. He folded his hands and looked up at the stars the way they had told him to.

 _Dear God,_ he thought.

_First, thanks for sending me to this place. I was mad that they sent me away, but this house looks so pretty and there is lots of grass and trees. Plus there are a bunch of rooms so I guess there are a lot of kids here too. Maybe they'll be nicer than the other ones. I don't care if they are mean, I just want one friend. And i guess if they were mean I can hide in my room._ _My room is kind of scary but I'm a big boy and I'm sure I'll be fine. There's no such thing as monsters, I know that._

__But I have a favor to ask too. I know you have a lot of important stuff to take care of, but do you think you could do this one little thing for me. It's just that this house_ looks like a good place to live so could you please help me stay here. Naomi doesn't seem so nice, but there are lots or worse places I could go. Like my last house._

_I know sometimes I'm not a good boy, and I mess up, like when I got juice on my church shirt and was sent to my room without breakfast._ _But I promise to try to be good. I'm going to keep my room clean, and not mumble, and not be messy. But please God, don't let me get sent away. They told me at that church that you can do anything. So if you aren't too busy, I really don't want to get sent someplace else._

_It's okay if you can't though. The father at church said that you are really busy with lots of stuff so I get it. Just try to keep me in mind._

_Amen_

Castiel quickly dived back under his covers and covered his head. He knew God was supposed to protect him from the monsters, but he was still a little scared. Especially when he heard a faint scratching against his window. He wanted to check and make sure there was nothing there, but he was scared he would find something, so he only squeezed his eyes shut tighter. 

It was a while longer before his exhaustion out weighed his hunger. 

\-----

Crowley sat at his desk staring at the cell phone lying on it. The screen was black and not ringing which was slowly pissing him off. He was the king of Hell, he had endless demons at his disposal and still no call. He stroked the hell hound at his feet and held in a scream of frustration. It wasn't just any hell hound, it was his last hell hound. And Crowley was determined to find out how in the hell that had happened. 

He had almost countless demons out searching for the hunters. Bobby singer had been reported as sitting at home, alone, drinking and sifting through an old book. Big surprise. But it had been twenty minutes and there was no word on the other two. They were the ones who were constantly causing him trouble. The ones who had found a way to kill all of his hounds. 

But Castiel was the one he'd really wanted. He was the hunter who had found a way out of hell, without Crowley even knowing. There were only a hand full of creatures with the juice to break someone out of Hell, and Castiel was known to hunt all of them. There was no way one of them would willingly risk ass for a hunter. One that had been wreaking havoc on the supernatural world, no less. 

Crowley just didn't get it, and he hated when he didn't get things. There was obviously something he was missing. But as he was trying to put the pieces together his phone rang. He jumped in his seat then scrambled to answer it before he missed the call. He'd notified everyone that he would only be speaking to people who had news about the hunters. 

"Tell me you have something," he demanded before the demon had a chance to speak. 

"You aren't going to believe me," he responded. He sounded terrified. 

"Just spit it out." Crowley stood and began pacing. He really needed to enforce obedience.

"Gabriel was spotted at a Starbucks with an angel." He said quietly after a long pause. Well he didn't have to worry about getting hurt by Crowley, because the king was inflicting the pain on his phone. He threw it at a wall across the room without thinking twice.

He'd been so sure that the angels would stay in heaven. They hadn't come to earth in hundreds of years, so he hadn't been so wrong to assume that they would keep their feathered butts in heaven. They did have a tendency to resolve their issues amongst themselves. They just thought they were so much better than every other creature that walked the earth. 

But they'd decided to come to earth. They obviously wanted the spell as badly as he did. And if they were keeping company with those hunters then they must have informed them of the spell. And a couple of angels had more than enough power to lift one soul out of hell. But why had they chosen Castiel? What made that specific man so damn special? He had to be useful in some way, or they wouldn't have wasted the effort.

Crowley growled and flipped his desk. It was bad enough that he had to deal with those boys, but on top of it all, there were bloody angels in the picture. He could not believe his rotten luck. But at least he had a clue. He just needed to get his hands on an angel blade, then he could take care of all of them. Except the only way to get an angel blade was off an angel. 

No problem, he would just have a few demons follow them. They would report any and all developments back to Crowley and he could wait until they got the spell, then steal it from them. Easy as taking candy from a baby. And in the mean time, he could relax and enjoy Hell. After all, there was no way those idiots could beat him at his own game. He was the king of Hell. 

\-----

Cas shot up in his seat and took in his surroundings in a panic. He was no longer in that attic, he was in a car that was speeding along the highway. And there was an angel driving, though his eyes were glued to Cas. It was more than a little unnerving the way Dean drove easily without having to even glance at the rode. It was more unnerving the way he looked at Cas as if he knew what the man had been dreaming about. 

"Hello," Cas said, just to break the silence. 

"Are you alright? You look like you had another nightmare," Dean said. He seemed to catch on to Cas' uneasiness and looked away. 

"I'm fine," He replied, looking out the window. Hell was one thing, but he was by no means telling Dean about any of that. He already knew most of it anyways if Cas remembered his prayers correctly. 

"You want to talk about it?" Dean asked softly. Cas relaxed instinctively. How could he not when Dean spoke like that. 

But he couldn't just keep letting his guard down. Dean was an angel who would be going back to heaven very soon and while Cas was glad they were friends, no friends told each other everything. So he took a deep breath and attempted to lock away all of those old memories. No need to feel tempted to bring them up. Dean had slipped through his defenses once, but it wouldn't happen again. 

"No thank you," he stated in what some might refer to as a cold voice.


	6. Little Talks

Crowley paced back and forth slowly as Bobby sat, tied down, to a chair in his living room. He glared at the demon but Crowley could hardly bring himself to care. He wouldn't talk except to show off his vast knowledge of expletives. But Crowley could be reasonable. If Bobby didn't want to talk then that was fine. Eventually one of his hunters would show up, and they could have a nice little chat about the angel. Or angels. He was royally screwed if there was more than one. 

"Get your demon paws off of that," Bobby grumbled as Crowley picked up a particularly good bottle of scotch. The man was a pain in his ass but he knew his drinks. Crowley ignored his comment and poured himself a glass. 

"That's no way to talk to a business partner." Crowley smiled and took a sip from his glass. Bobby just scowled.

"The only business we have to attend to is me sending your ass back to hell." Bobby added, glaring at the demon. Crowley didn't bother responding. So Crowley had gotten restless. He'd made the plan to wait until he'd gotten his hands on an angel blade, but that would have taken a while. He knew underestimating the Novaks was what got most killed, but he was curious. He wanted to see the angel and lay down a few threats. Oh, and maybe see if the hunters had found anything out about the spell. But he knew the latter was highly unlikely. 

But mostly he wanted to have a chat with Castiel. If they pulled him out once, he was important, and someone who was important to the angels, was very important to a demon. He'd just been surprised that the hunters hadn't been prepared for his visit. He'd sent a pack of hell hounds to kill them. Didn't that raise any sort of alarm any more? Or were they so sure that their angels would keep them safe from all harm?

"Yes yes, you hunters can get so fixated on that bit about hell," he commented, leaning against a desk. They must have been in the middle of some study session, because there were books lying every where. Their angels didn't have all the answers it seemed. "So have you dug up anything useful about that spell?" Crowley asked, as if they were in the middle of a meeting. Bobby didn't show any signs of even acknowledging him, so he shrugged and put it out of his mind. 

They probably didn't know anything. Those stupid hunters thought they were on the top of the food chain, but they were out of their league with this one. It was becoming clearer each day that earth had little to do with anything. Heaven and Hell were the real powers and earth was just a bargaining chip. Who ever had the spell in their possession had the upper hand. At the end of the game, the spell could very well determine the winner. 

Though the one thing that was really tugging at him was the location of the spell at the moment. Angels had been dying, so it was only logical that it was in the hands of the enemy of the angels. But he was sure the spell wasn't in demon hands. He would have found it already. And he doubted any human or creature had the juice to wield it, the hunters probably would have caught on to it. Which made him think that there was someone in heaven, killing off their own. 

But why?

He'd always known the angels were vicious, they had more bloodshed in their history than Hell ever would. But with the coming war, it was hardly a good idea to kill your own soldiers. It just didn't make sense. And if an angel was killing its own kind upstairs, and another was searching for the spell on earth with the hunters, than most of the angels were probably clueless. Those ignorant, feathery bastards were probably all running around like chickens with their heads cut off. 

He chuckled under his breath and smiled when he heard a car pull in to the driveway. Castiel and Gabriel had not made them wait long. He just hoped that their feathery friend had not decided to tag along. "Hello boys," he greeted as the footsteps neared the living room. But it wasn't Castiel and Gabriel. Hell, Castiel wasn't even there. The bloody angel was though. He frowned as the angel stepped in front of a furious Gabriel. Shame, he could do for a warm up. 

"Who are you?" Angel boy demanded. He took on a fighting stance and an expression that spoke of years of experience. Crowley was suddenly caught off guard by the light and power radiating from the being before him. There was a chance he was in over his head.

"Ahh I love it when you get bossy. So this is the do gooder that brought our Castiel back," Crowley accused, putting down his glass. 

"Maybe he'll return the favor after I send you down there," Gabriel growled from his space behind the giant. 

"Who are you?" he asked again although Crowley wasn't too keen on the attitude.

"I think the more pressing concern is where is Castiel hiding. He and I have things to discuss." Crowley explained, watching them closely.

"That's none of your concern Crowley. You won't be getting anywhere near him ever again." Gabriel said darkly. The angel raised an eyebrow in surprise and snorted. 

"This is Crowley?" He visibly relaxed. "He isn't much to look at." And just like that the angel looked like he was completely uninterested which really irked Crowley. He was a formidable foe.

"Now listen, I don't care why you feathery idiots have decided to take an interest in him, but I will have a nice long conversation with him about it very soon. Besides that, I just came to see if the rumors were true and to inform you that there would indeed be repercussions for slaughtering all of my puppies." Crowley explained.

"Your 'puppies' did try to kill us," Gabriel argued.

"Yes, technically," Crowley admitted, waving a hand. "But now my Juliet has no one to play with." 

"Can we fast forward to the part where you send him to hell?" Bobby interrupted, glancing at the angel. He shrugged and raised his blade, but if Castiel wasn't present then Crowley had no further business with them.

"That won't be necessary," Crowley said. He picked up his glass and took a long sip. "Castiel isn't here and I doubt any of you will tell me where he's gone, so I'll find him on my own." He set down the glass and disappeared. 

Crowley blinked and he was in his office once more. He was pleased to see that his desk had bee replaced and everything had been neatly arranged on top of it once again. One of the perks of being the king of Hell, there were demons ready to clean up almost all of your messes. Crowley sighed contented as he sagged into his chair. He had a voice mail on his machine, but he couldn't bring himself to listen to it. He was just glad he was still breathing. 

It had made him more uncomfortable than he had anticipated, being before an angel. He'd never been in the presence of one, so the overwhelming light and power had been a surprise. Angels clearly lived up to the legends, and Crowley felt unbelievably lucky. The next time he went face to face with one, he would need an angel blade. He couldn't be so reckless with his life anymore.

He mentally ran through his to do list and tried not to get frustrated. There was so much left to finish. He needed to get his hands on Castiel, keep an eye on those hunters and the angel, and get a hold of an angel blade. And he had to make sure if they found the spell, that they didn't keep it. Those idiots would probably destroy it, leaving Crowley without a secret weapon against Raphael's army. 

With a sigh, he pressed play. 

\-----

Gabriel rushed to Bobby's side to untied him the moment Crowley disappeared. Bobby seemed pretty pissed that Crowley had busted open one of his drinks more than anything else. Sam stayed where he was, looking fairly confused. It wasn't until Bobby was settled and had stopped grumbling that Gabriel noticed he hadn't moved. He pulled a lollipop from his pocket and popped it in his mouth.

"What's got you stiff?" he asked with a grin. Angels probably wouldn't get most of his jokes, but that wouldn't stop him. Especially when they looked as unfairly attractive as Sam and Dean. But he wasn't going anywhere near Dean. Not when the guy had some weird boner for Cas. The guy literally hung off of every word he said. Gabriel had a thing for the tall ones anyways. Sam shot him a glare when he finally got it and took a seat on the couch. 

"I'm debating whether I should tell Dean about this," he said, running a hand through his hair. Gabriel stretched out on the couch beside him, rolling the sucker in his mouth. 

"Does he have a cell on him?" Sam barely seemed to be listening. He looked like he was lost to his thoughts. Gabriel was actually surprised when he answered.

"No we can communicate telepathically, kind of," Sam said with an unsure face. It was probably more complicated than that. "But you guys can pray to us if you ever want to send a message." he added as an after thought. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Great, I'll just dig out my bible." Sam smiled at that and Gabriel had to admit, he thought the angel looked better when he was mad. Well he kind of thought every one looked better when they were angry. Except Cas, he could be pretty terrifying when backed into a corner, though it didn't happen often.

"I'll just keep it to myself for now. He'd only worry and drive all the way back," Sam muttered more to himself. "So what now?"

Bobby shrugged. "Keep lookin in case we need a plan B," he suggested. The man was already at his desk, a plethora of books spread around him. Gabriel moaned. He'd thought they'd studied more than enough for the day. 

"Do we have to?" He whined, dropping onto the floor. Maybe he was a little dramatic. But just a little. 

"Boy, get off the floor and act your age," Bobby scolded. Gabriel only rolled onto his stomach and pulled the nearest book towards him. 

"There, all grown up," Gabriel quipped. "Sam I can see you smiling and I don't appreciate it."

"I'm not smiling," Sam replied with an almost straight face. The book in his lap that he was pretending to read was probably helping. Bastards, all of them. 

"You'll all pay," Gabriel promised, allowing his lollipop to fall from between his lips and onto the floor. It rolled just long enough to get covered in dirt, then silently mocked Gabriel from a few inches away. Sam laughed quietly from his post, and Bobby muttered, "That's what you get."

He hoped Cas was having a better time than him.  
\-----

Driving from south Dakota to Michigan was no easy feat, but after the way that Bobby had reacted to Dean's powers, the angel was scared to bring them up with Cas. Beside, the hunter was looking out the window and pointedly not speaking the way he had been for the last few hours. Dean didn't actually know what he'd done to piss Cas off, he thought the man was starting to open up. 

He'd tried starting conversation a few times, but all Cas did was grunt in response, and that was only when he wasn't flat out ignoring Dean. So instead, he took Cas's suggestion and turned on the radio. It took some searching, but eventually he found a station that didn't have too much static. It was classic rock, and he found he liked a band called Kansas a lot. Cas didn't have any say on the music.

Left with nothing to do but listen to soft music, he had to keep it low because he was sure Cas needed more sleep and loud music wouldn't help, his thoughts started to drift. He wasn't usually one to dwell on thoughts, but he hadn't been a good little soldier in a long time. He was starting to change. And one of the catalysts was sitting beside him.

Cas ignoring him was bothering him more and more by the second. Maybe the fact that he had opened up to Dean for a few moments was what made the action sting. Or the fact that Dean had opened up to him. Cas understood what he was feeling, so it kind of sucked that he didn't want to talk about it. It would have been nice to talk about grief with someone besides Sammy.

He loved the kid, Sam was his pride and joy, but he spent almost all of his time with his brother. It was just awesome to get to connect with other people. People you didn't see every day. And he'd actually thought they were getting along. Dean just wanted to relate to Cas. He wanted to understand him, and be a person he could trust, and make him smile. Dean really wanted to make him smile.

It seemed to him that Cas never smiled. Like ever. Cas had a pretty messed up past but that didn't mean he couldn't focus on the future. He was still so young, and despite it all, his soul was still so pure. Dean had seen others recover from worse in the past, so surely Cas could be happy someday. And if Dean could help him get there, it would be that much better. He realized his thoughts were leading into dangerous territory, so he searched for something to distract himself. 

Dean glanced at the clock above the dashboard. It was already past lunch time. Cas had breakfast, but humans had to constantly eat. Maybe he was hungry. Dean glance at the man slouched against the window. He seemed to be glaring at each individual car as the passed them on the highway. That was a good sign.

"So Cas, you hungry?" Dean asked softly. He kind of hoped Cas hadn't heard so the guy wouldn't bite of his head, but he visibly jumped. Cas looked up at him like he'd forgotten where he was and who he was with. 

"Yes, I suppose it would be wise to stop and eat. Anywhere is fine," Cas said in a detached voice. Then he turned his foggy eyes back to the window. Dean would have been lying if he said he hadn't been a little creeped out. Cas seemed like he needed a good meal, a good night's sleep, and maybe a vacation. 

Dean passed half a dozen signs with Mcdonalds or Taco Bell written on them, but he didn't stop until he saw the Steak n' Shake. He'd never heard of it or anything, but the sign looked cool, and he'd never seen it on any of those shows where they talked about how fast food was literally the worst thing ever. If he was going to be watching out for Cas, he wasn't going to take him to a fast food place. He'd survive the job, only to have a heart attack.

Dean felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Cas dying. He wanted Cas to live a long, happy life with his family. But he also felt a little excited it the thought. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Cas was going to heaven. And when he did finally end up upstairs, Dean could show him all of his favorite pieces of heaven. He could even show him Joseph's garden. Dean got the feeling Cas would like it there.

Cas didn't say a word as they got out of the car and walked up to the building. Dean held the door open for him and he nodded in thanks, but he still didn't seem much in the mood to talk. They picked a secluded booth in the back of the diner, and were immediately greeted with a young, perky waitress. She bounced slightly in place as she pulled out a notepad. Her ponytail moved in time. Her name tag read Stefanie.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" She asked so cheerfully that it was a wonder Cas could keep a straight face. Even Dean was smiling with her. 

He ordered a slice of apple pie, she said they made it the best, because Cas ordered a burger and he didn't want to be sitting there just staring. The service was actually pretty good, because he and Cas only had to sit in awkward silence for a few minutes before she was back with their orders in hand.

He watched Cas dig into his burger. He seemed too like it. Humans all seemed to love food, despite having to eat over and over every day. He looked down at his apple pie. It smelled pretty good. He obviously didn't need to eat, but he took a hesitant bite of his pie. That earned him a strange look from Cas. His smug grin turned into a full blown smile when he realized how amazing pie was. It was warm and soft and sweet. How did people do anything but eat? 

"Oh god," he moaned on the last bite. Then it was gone. He waved over the waitress. 

"Hey Stef, so could you please being me another slice of this?" Dean asked excitedly. He wasn't really sure how his vessel would react to food, but he didn't really care. 

"No problem," she practically beamed. "And for you?" She directed at Cas. He was staring at Dean with what seemed to be his default expression. Blank. Sam cut her losses and bounced back to the kitchen. Then there was more silence and Dean didn't even have pie to fill it. 

"So angels eat." Cas stated after a few minutes of awkward silence. 

"We don't have to but who knew pie was so awesome," Dean explained. He played with a sugar packet. 

"Interesting, I myself am more of a cake person," Cas responded like he hadn't been ignoring Dean all day. Dean glance up in surprise. Was he initiating conversation?

"Chocolate or vanilla?" 

"I'm not crazy, chocolate." Cas said as if it was obvious. And just like that it wasn't weird anymore. 

Cas told him how for his twentieth birthday, Gabriel had tried to make it the best one ever, so he'd tried to bake Cas this triple chocolate cake. But despite Gabriel's love of sugar, he had no skills when it came to baking. So in the process of making the cake, he nearly burned down Bobby's house, and then blamed Cas, because he hadn't been there to help. Then instead, they stuck candles in ice cream ate that. It was still one of Cas's best birthdays.

He also apologized for ignoring Dean. Which Dean appreciated since all he really wanted was for Cas to not hate him. He didn't give Dean his reason for suddenly going cold, but it was no big deal. And maybe they weren't off to such a bad start. After Dean devoured three slices of pie, paid, and left a great tip, they were actually talking easily. Cas almost looked comfortable. 

"I'll be taking those now," Cas said, snatching the keys from Dean's hands just as he was about to unlock the car door. "I need to be occupied," he insisted, before Dean could argue. 

"Fine, I need to check in with Sam anyways," he said, climbing into the passenger side. 

"I must admit I'm surprised you both have cell phones," Cas commented as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

Dean rolled his eyes. Like they needed cell phones. "We don't. All angels can speak to each other in their heads. Kind of like angel radio. And if you guys ever wanna talk, you can just pray to us." Dean explained. Cas nodded but didn't respond. He assumed that meant the conversation was over. Cas wasn't exactly subtle. 

_Sammy, everything over there okay?_

_Yeah, we're good. You and Cas?_ Dean smiled when he felt Sam's annoyance at the nickname. That would never get old. 

_Good, he was ignoring me for a while there, but I think he got over it,_ Dean glanced at Cas. He wasn't sure the man was completely over whatever had plagued him before. But he wasn't really one to worry about things. 

_Aww Dean I thought everyone loved you. This must be such a blow to that ego._

_Shut up, bitch._

_Not a chance, jerk._ Dean grinned and glanced out the window. He had to admit, he loved that idiot.

They did stop talking, but only for lack of anything else to say. They'd always spent most of their time together, so there wasn't much to say that the other didn't know. The fact that they were spending time apart was different, but good. Sam was family and he would always come first, but it was nice to be able to broaden his horizons. 

"How are they?" Cas asked after a few minutes. 

"Good," Dean said, looking over at Cas. "I'm not worried." He leaned over and turned on the radio. It was on the same station as before and he smiled in approval. 

"I like this," Cas murmured. He got a far away look for a second, but then he was back, just like nothing had happened. Dean ignored it. 

Cas drove until close to midnight, and they talked about unimportant things which was nice. Dean thought maybe Cas had let out too much too soon and that was why he'd freaked and stopped talking. But he seemed to have warmed up after the diner. Cas told him that he loved nature, old things, the color green, and dogs. Dean loved the ocean, puppies, being on earth, and the color blue. Oh, and pie. He really loved pie. Cas thought he should try other foods, there wasn't only pie, but Dean was already kind of fixated on his treat. 

When he was beginning to notice Cas's shoulders sagging, he forced the man to pull over at the closest motel. He could easily walk away if their car was wrapped around a tree, but Cas probably wouldn't be so lucky. He liked Cas, but he also really needed him to save his race. That was kind of important. So they would be stopping for the night. Cas had an overnight bag that he always kept in his trunk because he was just that type of person. 

The motel wasn't what anyone would call nice. The sign was chipping, the walls were faded, and the front desk looked like it had housed termites for generations. The teenage girl behind the desk, looked almost stereo typically apathetic. She popped her gum, and flipped through her magazine, and didn't look up until Cas cleared his throat for the fifth time. 

"Hello miss, we would like to get a room. Two beds," he said in that curt way he did. She slowly straightened and pulled a key off of the wall behind her without looking. It had a red tag on it with a small 101 printed on it. 

"That's gonna be one hundred a night," she droned, handing them the key. "With a twenty dollar security deposit." 

"That is highway robbery, and i-" Cas began, what would have surly been a rant that would have ended with a visit from the manager. But Dean was in no mood for lingering in that dimly lit lobby that smelled like mold and bubblegum. He snatched the key from her fingers. 

"Thank you," Dean interrupted, offering the girl cash, and a thin smile. "Come on Cas, you look like you can barely walk." Cas shot the girl a glare before following after Dean. 

"Dean, I could have handled that," he said as they shuffled up the stairs. 

"But not as quickly as I did," he argued, rubbing his jaw. "The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can wake up and we can get back on the road. We have a mission." Cas worked his jaw. 

"I do not need to be reminded. Which begs the question, why aren't you driving? I could sleep and we could take shifts." Cas suggested, stopping in front of their door. 

"We could," Dean admitted in frustration. The lock was fighting him. It took a minute for him to open the door and think of a response. "But you had nightmares in the car. Not sleeping would have added up."

"I'll have nightmares where ever I sleep," Cas said evenly, walking around Dean. 

The room was slightly better than the lobby had been. The smell of mold wasn't as prominent and there didn't seem to be any signs of rodents or roaches. The sheets looked like they were clean at least semi clean, and the carpet was only stained in some places. The pillow cases were worn and the wall paper was painful to look at. It was also pretty dim. Dean had never been more glad in his life that he didn't need to sleep. 

"But now you have a guardian angel." He threw himself onto one of the beds and leaned against the headboard. 

Cas rolled his eyes and headed straight for the bathroom. Dean thought maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go in there as he doubted it was sanitary. He was somehow sure Cas wouldn't have listened to his warning. So he folded his hands behind his head and let his eyes fall shut. He wouldn't sleep, but he could link up with Sam and see what he was up to at the moment. 

They were still at Bobby's house, and the windows were pitch black. The only light was from a hand full of old lamps around the room. Sam sat on the floor, head in his lap, shoulders shaking. Behind him, Bobby was standing and shaking his head in disapproval. Gabriel sat beside the angel talking about some shenanigan when he was ten, and waving his hands around. It almost seemed like Sam was having fun. 

Dean couldn't hide his grin. Sam was enjoying himself. That was good. After what had happened to Jess, Dean had been scared that Sam would think it was his fault the way Dean did. He didn't need to carry the burden. Especially since he'd been closer to Jess than Dean had been. It had probably hurt Sam so much more to feel her life force fade. 

"I am sorry about before. I just wanted to keep our relationship purely business." Cas interrupted Dean's link, pulling him back to the dingy motel. Cas was lying under the covers and the lights were off. Dean blinked quickly. How long had he been watching Sam? "I don't need to get attached."

"Well it was a valiant effort, but no one can resist my charm." Dean teased, looking at nothing. 

"Ah yes, that pie all over your face was so endearing," Cas said sarcastically.

"I like to think I wore it well," Dean replied confidently. The memory made him blush though. He heard Cas shift slightly.

"You like to think a lot of things that aren't true. You think Sam secretly loves your nickname for him, Gabriel is harmless, and pie is the best." Cas said offhandedly. Like anything he'd just said was true. Which it wasn't Dean knew for a fact that all of those were lies. 

"I'm going to go ahead and let you sleep, because the lack of it is probably making you delusional." Dean joked. But seriously, pie was the best. 

Then Cas laughed, which was a really nice sound. It was breathy and soft like he didn't do it often and had forgotten how. Dean actually regretted telling him to sleep because he wanted to see if he could get another one to surface. He realized he was probably focusing too much on making Cas happy, but he'd been so fixated on him since he was a boy, that it was hard to focus on the task at hand. 

Cas had been the one person he hadn't felt he'd helped enough. The laws about interfering were so strict that Dean had barely done anything, and he wanted to make up for it. Cas had a terrible childhood, and life, because Dean hadn't been good at his job. And he was going to save his people, no doubt about it, but he was also going to try his hardest to save Cas as well.

\-----

_The first morning at the house, Castiel woke up with a cramp in his gut. The sun had woken him, but the pain would not let him go back to sleep. He couldn't tell what time it was, but the sun was barely in the sky so he knew it was early. He had always been an early riser. The earlier you woke, the more you could get done. The people at his last home had hammered that into his skull._

_So he crawled out of bed, and quickly pulled on a button down shirt that matched his eyes, and khaki pants. He tucked in his shirt and put on his only belt. His hair was a lost cause. It had always been a mess, and no matter what anyone did with it, it stayed that way. But the rest of him looked very proper, and he knew that would help if he wanted to stay._

_Once he was sure he looked as good as he was going to, Castiel put his pajamas in his drawer and tried to lift the door that lead downstairs. It wouldn't budge. Naomi had locked him in. He fought the fear that he would be locked in there forever. She wouldn't have done that. She would get in lots of trouble and Castiel hadn't even been bad yet. Except for falling but that had been an accident._

_Castiel felt tears form in his eyes. But only babies cried, he wasn't going to be a baby, he was a big boy. So the 7 year old curled up into a ball on his bed an gazed out his window, trying to keep calm. He watched the sun crawl up into the sky and he imagined what his life was going to be like. There would be lots of kids. They would all be really nice to him and want to be his friend._

_They could play tag in the big grassy yard, and play hid and seek in the barn. He imagined it smelled like hay, even though he had no idea what hay smelled like. Naomi would warm up to him once she knew he was a good boy and they would all be so happy. So so happy, he thought as he watched the space above the door. Then he prayed._

_Please, please, don't let me be locked up here forever._

_It was what felt like an hour later that he heard the faint click. He'd been praying to hear the sound for so long that he almost thought it was his imagination. Castiel scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his stomach, and rushed to the door. It swung open easily and the ladder fell into place. He poked his head out. There was no one in the hall below, so he wasn't sure who had opened it, but he was grateful._

_He slowly, running was bad, made his way down the hall the way he had come with Naomi. The closer he got to the bottom of the stairs the louder it got. There were obviously many children all talking at once. He had to fight his excitement. The noise was coming from the dining room, so Castiel peeked around the wall to see what was going on._

_There was an impossibly long wooden table filled to the brim with boys of all ages. There were about 30 kids, but Cas wasn't very good at counting yet. He liked school but they kept switching him. Naomi sat at the head of the table, beside her was the only empty chair. Before Cas had even moved, her gaze landed on him and hardened._

_"Castiel, stop lurking and come sit this instant or you won't be getting breakfast," she scolded, and Castiel was in his chair in a second. He would not risk missing another meal. "In the future I expect you to be on time to breakfast." She added._

_"But-"_

_"Do not talk back," She said, glaring down at him._

_Castiel nodded, he knew better. "Yes ma'am." Naomi nodded in approval and looked up at all of the boys. Every single one of them was staring at him. Castiel was used to it, he lowered his head. The house was not living up to his high expectations. With a nod from Naomi, they were allowed to begin eating. Eggs and bacon had never tasted so good to the boy._

_After breakfast, they were allowed to play. Most of the boys ran out the door, but the older ones had to stay behind and do dishes. Outside, the younger boys were already beginning a game of tag. Castiel approached a larger boy who appeared to be in charge. "Would it be all right if I joined in on your game?"_

_The boy, he later learned the boy's name was Micheal, turned toward Castiel. "Why are you talking like that? What are you, some kind of freak?" He said with a sneer. He shoved Castiel to the ground and stalked off. All of the boys followed._

_For a few weeks, summer had just started, the boys would all play outside and Castiel would reread his books alone in the barn. His door was no longer locked after the first day. He would stay quiet so Naomi would have no reason to send him away, and he would pray each night for just one friend. Then he would cry himself to sleep, hoping the next day would be better. It never was._

_Then it got worse._


	7. Somewhere In Neverland

_It was about a month after Castiel had arrived. He had begun to settle into the home, begun to think it wasn't so bad. Then he made his first mistake. After breakfast, everyone had to take their plates into the kitchen for the older kids to wash. Castiel was the very last in line. As he was nearing the counter, he stepped on a shoe lace and crashed to the floor._

_The plate in his hand was also sent crashing to the floor. Every child in the vicinity froze. Castiel was the only one who didn't know about Naomi's temper. Before he knew it, the kitchen was empty and she was standing in the doorway. Her frame loomed over him and emanated fury. Without a word, she grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged him from the kitchen, up the first flight of stairs._

_Castiel knew he was going to be reprimanded, but he wasn't scared. He had broken plates and other things before and he'd just been given spankings or scoldings. And Naomi seemed angry, but his other foster parents had been angry too. So he followed her complacently down the hall to the last door. It was Naomi's office, and only she had the key._

_Inside, bookshelves lined the walls and Castiel forgot for a moment that he was in trouble. How he would have loved to run his hands over the spines, smell the covers, stay up all night exploring different worlds. Buy Naomi brought him from his imagination, clearing her throat. She stood before the oak desk that dominated the rest of her office, a rod in her hands._

_"Drop your pants," she ordered. Castiel looked on in surprise. He had never been asked to do that before._

_Castiel slowly removed his belt and placed it on the floor by his feet in a coil. Then he slid off his pants and placed them on his belt, folded neatly. But when he looked up at Naomi, she just raised an eyebrow. He knew she wanted him to take off his underwear, but he couldn't. He wasn't supposed to take off his clothes ever unless he was taking a bath._

_"Castiel, take them off or it will hurt more," she warned, glaring down at him. He felt tears form in his eyes as he removed his underwear and placed them on top of the neat pile he'd started._

_"Turn around," she ordered, and he obeyed._

_The boy hunched forward, attempting to cover himself with the front of his shirt. He was so embarrassed and scared. He was able to blink away the tears in his eyes, but only until Naomi brought the rod down hard on his bottom. It stung and he whimpered. The next hit had tears running down his face. She hit him eight more times before she dropped the rod._

_"You won't break anything else," Naomi stated, then she left him alone._

_Castiel dressed hurriedly through his blurred vision, then shuffled out of Naomi's office. He'd been hit before, but never like that. It had never hurt so much. And he was sure that he was bleeding. As he locked himself away in his room, he promised he would never bring Naomi's wrath on himself ever again. But he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it. Even when he tried to be good he was bad, and he'd deserved the beating._

_At lunch Naomi did not look at him or acknowledge him, though he still had to sit in the seat beside her. The other children made a point not to look at Castiel, and he thought maybe they knew what had happened to him. So they had all been bad at some point too. For some reason that made Castiel feel a little better._

_The next morning, when Castiel woke, his door was locked once more. It wasn't unlocked until well after breakfast, and Castiel knew it was a continuation of his punishment. He tried not to feel like he deserved it too. For the rest of the week, the same thing happened. Then it stopped. After a few months, Castiel had begun to forget about the whole ordeal._

_The beatings didn't stop entirely, though they happened infrequently._

_\-----_

_It was when Castiel was ten that he encountered the more severe method of punishment Naomi sometimes employed. He had been alone, as always. The house had not become a home like Castiel had hoped, but it was bearable. By that time he had grown accustomed to Naomi's form of punishment and but he had not stopped praying that he would somehow be good and deserve better._

_Castiel had been behind the barn, sitting in the grass and leaning against the old wood. He was reading a book one of his teachers had lent to him. They had been doing that for years. Most teachers took a shining to him because of his quiet nature and love for books. But he had to be careful about where he read, because he knew it would have made Naomi angry to see him with them. She would have thought he was stealing or talking to teachers about other things._

_But that day, he had been particularly absorbed in his novel. One of the more spiteful children, Castiel didn't even know his name, ran up and spotted the boy. None of the other children were particularly fond of Castiel, so it was no surprise when the child ran into the house and immediately told Naomi what he had seen. Children who told her things also tended to stay on her good side._

_Castiel looked up in shock as the boy took off running to the house, shouting Naomi's name. He could already see the fury on Naomi's face. He chased after the boy, but Castiel had a late start and he didn't get nearly as much exercise as the others. When he made it through the front door, Castiel plowed straight into Naomi's pencil skirt._

_The other boy stood behind her legs, grinning maliciously. Running in the house was completely unacceptable._

_"Castiel, you've been stealing things and running in the house." Naomi didn't ask, she stated. Castiel opened his mouth to argue but he couldn't count how many beatings he'd gotten for speaking back. So he shut it. He deserved it anyways. Why couldn't he just learn?_

_"It would seem we need to take more drastic measures. Come with me," she ordered, beginning up the stairs. She'd stopped dragging Castiel ages ago when she'd believed he would stop resisting. Castiel followed._

_They went up one flight of stairs, but instead of going to her study at the end of the hall, they stopped at the first door. They'd never stopped before. This door had a lock too, and Naomi procured a key that looked identical to the one for her office._

_Inside there was an enormous bed with white bedding. A large window over looked the yard, but the curtains were shut. The opposite wall was dominated by a fire place, which Naomi set to work lighting. "Sit down, Castiel." There was only a small chair next to the bedside table. He took it, hoping it wasn't another mistake on his part._

_She lit the fire the turned to a black rack sitting beside the fire place. There were a handful of tools, but she immediately reached for the fire poker. Castiel hadn't known at the time that that was what it was called, but someone later on named it for him. She prodded at the burning logs, letting the metal rest in the flames. Castiel watched on silently._

_"Take off your shirt and turn around," Naomi demanded. Castiel did so without a word._

_He hadn't really known what to prepare for, so he was completely shocked when a searing pain burned his lower back. It was the worst thing he'd ever felt. He fell to his knees as his vision blurred, trying to get away from the pain, but it followed him down. He knew better than to react, try and get away. That only made it worse. So he wasn't surprised when Naomi pressed that burning thing to his back a second time and held it there._

_"I really do wish you would behave, I don't like doing this," she said calmly. But Castiel wasn't paying attention._

_As she pulled the thing away, he felt a sob shake free from his throat. He was completely blinded by the tears, and he vaguely hoped he didn't cry too much or she would make him clean her floor. She pressed it to his back three more times, before she was finished. Then she silently put the poker back in its place, put out the fire, and stepped out of the room._

_Castiel was a mess on the floor. He was shaking, his back was killing him, and he couldn't stop the tears. He shouldn't have run in the house. He knew better than that, he'd known for years. And he should have known she would find out about the books eventually. He deserved it all. He knew it and Naomi knew it. He just needed to be better._

_He ignored the pain in his back, and wiped his tears. It took him a few tries to stand on his wobbly legs, but eventually he did it. His shirt made his back feel like it was on fire all over again, but he knew he couldn't let anyone see what had happened, he felt ashamed. So he walked quickly to his room and removed his shirt the moment his door was closed._

_Castiel crawled onto his bed and stretched out on his stomach. All he wanted was cool air to soothe his back, but the reality was that his room was warm and stuffy. He was uncomfortable, and in pain, and angry. Mostly at himself though. He was angry that he'd gotten himself stuck in such an awful place. If he would have been good at his last home they wouldn't have gotten rid of him._

_And he was angry that he'd been so stupid. He'd acted bad and gotten kicked out of his old house, and he'd messed up in his new one. He'd known from the first day that her punishments were harsh. He shouldn't have been so stupid, bringing home that book and running in the house. He was just never going to learn._

_But he wanted to change. If it meant she would never hurt him again, he would do whatever she asked of him. So he prayed, just like he did every night, that he would become a better boy. He also prayed for a friend, though that one he had nearly given up on that. It was clear he was an outcast and none of the boys would be accepting him anytime soon. And he hardly deserved one._

_Then he cried himself to sleep, swearing those would be his last tears._

_The next morning, his door was locked, just as he'd expected it would be. But when he opened his book drawer, that was also empty. Castiel wanted to be angry that she'd taken his most prized possessions, but he didn't have the energy for it. He'd missed dinner and breakfast. Besides, emotions were so tedious. All they did was cause him pain. He didn't need them._

_Hoping and getting attached to things, it was always backfiring on him. If he wanted to survive living in that house, he needed to leave all of his emotions behind. He was sure if he didn't have them it would make it easier to forget about Naomi hurting him. And all of the other kids hating him. And the fact that he didn't know what it felt like to be wanted._

_So he sat on his bed, staring out the window until he heard the familiar click. The lock on his door. He slowly pulled on a shirt, his back still bothering him. Then he headed downstairs. He didn't know what to do with himself without a book. Everyone was playing outside but he knew that wasn't an option. He had no books. There was no television, and if there were, he wouldn't have gotten to pick the channel._

_So he went back up to his room and stared out his window at the kids having fun below. He did not pray that night._

_\-----_

_When he was twelve years old, Castiel got his first friend. The boy came late in the afternoon, just after dinner. Castiel had seen the black car pull up, drop the boy at the end of the road, and drive off without waiting. It made him think of his first day. As the boy approached the house, Castiel noticed three things. His knees were scraped to hell, his hair was beyond mess, and he wore the biggest grin Castiel had ever seen in his life._

_The boy was trouble, Castiel could see it from a mile away. It was obvious he was removed from his previous home because his foster parents hadn't been able to handle him. But for some reason, Castiel felt connected to him. He wanted to keep the boy from feeling Naomi's wrath, but he also wanted to feel the absolute joy that the boy seemed to be feeling at that moment._

_Maybe he could give emotions and attachments another try._

_The next morning, at breakfast, everyone was fascinated with the new boy. They asked him questions about where he came from and what he liked to do. Castiel ignored them all as usual. He felt sad. He'd successfully pushed those things away for years but the new boy had made him hopeful. The hope was dashed by his eager grin and easy answers._

_After breakfast he'd considered searching for the boy and introducing himself, but he wasn't a masochist. He didn't need to be rejected again. So instead of inspecting the groups of boys outside, he bypassed them all. He didn't have a book, but he still went to his spot behind the barn. He still had his imagination, after all._

_But there was someone there._

_He was sitting in Castiel's spot. He wasn't angry, just violated. He could have walked away, but it was his spot. It had been for years. So he approached the familiar figure, and froze in shock when he looked up and smiled brilliantly at Castiel.  No one had ever looked at him like that and he was taken off guard completely._

_"Hey, I'm Gabriel," he introduced, extending his hand. Castiel hesitated but took it._

_"Castiel," he said, taking a seat. He didn't want to scare off Gabriel, so he said nothing._

_"So what's there to do around here?" he asked, scuffing up his old shoes._

_"Nothing. You either play with the others or do nothing," Castiel explained. He tilted his head back and looked at the clear sky. He liked the sky. It was so limitless. Something about it made him hopeful._

_"Well there has to be something else we can do," Gabriel argued, standing up. He brushed himself off and extended his hand to Castiel once more. "Are you coming?"_

_Castiel probably stared at his hand for an embarrassingly long time. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted a friend when there was an offer right in front of him. If Gabriel got bored of him, it would hurt worse than any of his other rejections. But all he had ever wanted was a friend. So he let Gabriel pull him up. Castiel offered the boy a shy smiled and followed him into the house._

_\-----_

_Naomi had a vase. It was this green thing with cerulean patterns drawn artfully on it. It was actually quite pretty. And it looked more than expensive. Naomi treasured it. She kept it on an end table in a corner of the living room. It was out of the way but she could stop each day and appreciate it. And there was less of a chance of a younger child tipping it over._

_Well only once had anyone ever threatened it. Castiel had heard a few boys talking about it a while back. They hadn't been talking to him of coarse, but he had over heard their loud whispers. It had been years ago. A boy, six or seven, had been playing tag in the house and kicked the end table by accident. The vase had teetered, and fallen over._

_One of the older children had caught it moments before impact with the floor. But he hadn't replaced it before Naomi was in the room. She eventually found out who had been the cause of the incident, she always did. She punished him, and then no one ever saw the boy again. Castiel was sure he had just been sent to a different house, but there was a whisper of doubt in him._

_He and Gabriel ran into the house. Castiel slowed at the door, but Gabriel rushed in. He stopped in the center of the living room and took it in. "What about hide and seek?"_

_Castiel was unsure. He knew running was not allowed, but he'd never been told anything about hide and seek. "I guess that would be ok."_

_So Gabriel hid and Castiel counted. And then it was the other way around. They took turns and Castiel had to admit it was a fun game. He'd hadn't enjoyed himself so much in years. And Gabriel was laughing and acting like he was having fun too. Which was strange because Castiel had been sure he would get bored and wander off to play with the others._

_After a few turns, Gabriel was up to hid again. Castiel covered his eyes and counted to 15. There weren't that many places to hide, he had to admit. So when he turned around, he immediately spotted Gabriel. He was a small 12 year old so he fit under the end table where the vase that everyone avoided sat. Castiel froze._

_"You can't hide there," he whispered. Gabriel scrunched his eyebrows together._

_"Why?" he asked, but he slowly crawled out from the space._

_"It's d-" but Castiel was cut off._

_Gabriel bumped his head on the edge of the table as he stood. It teetered and the vase shook. As Gabriel stood, the vase fell off the edge. It crashed to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Gabriel's mouth made an 'o' as he realized what had happened. And before Castiel could think, he was taking a place beside the table and shoving his friend aside._

_Naomi was in the doorway minutes later. Castiel was used to her fury. She had so many levels of it that she showed frequently. But beneath her rage, Castiel could see that she was hurt as well. Her eyes were watering. The vase had obviously been more than valuable to her. It had had sentimental value. And she looked ready to kill whoever had destroyed it._

_"Who?" she spit out._

_"It was an accident, I didn't mean to," Castiel said calmly before Gabriel could come clean. He'd never had a friend before and Castiel would not let him get burned on his first day. It was the least he could do after Gabriel was so nice. Besides, he would probably do something to deserve it later anyways._

_"Castiel, please come with me," ordered more calmly than he thought she was capable of. Castiel gave Gabriel a small smile and followed her up the stairs. He wasn't at all surprised when she led him into her bedroom._

_\-----_

_The beatings stopped when Castiel was 15. He never figured out why. But he did know that Gabriel never got one and he was eternally grateful. Gabriel didn't deserve them the way he had. Even though Gabriel proved to be much stronger than Castiel in almost every way, he still felt the need to protect his new friend. And it worked, though he thought that Gabriel knew about what Naomi had done to him over the years._

_He didn't become close with any of the other boys but Gabriel had been more than enough. They had become close and even considered each other brothers. And while Castiel was still quiet, and more than a little self loathing, Gabriel helped with his energy and affection. And he was so good, always standing up for Castiel and being nice to him._

_By the time he was 18, Castiel still had his low self esteem, but he had a new defining trait. He believed he could make up for all of the bad he had done in his life. And he would, if it killed him. He just didn't know how. Gabriel had tried to convince him to loosen up, not take life so seriously. But Castiel felt this crushing weight to be better. So he did the only thing he could think of._

_Join the army._

_Gabriel had been furious at the idea of it. First he had yelled and forbade Castiel from even think about it anymore. Then he had begged Castiel to reconsider. Then he had told Castiel in detail all of the other career choices before him. One had been the priesthood, which did amuse him because he hadn't believed in a god in years._

_But while he'd been deliberating over it, he'd met Uriel. At first Uriel had been perfect and he had been what had convinced Castiel to stay. Gabriel hadn't liked the man, but he was just glad Castiel was staying. And Uriel had made Castiel feel like he wasn't completely worthless at first. He'd showered him in compliments, treated him well._

_But then he'd begun to make him feel awful at every opportunity. He would spend days being a jackass, then he would be sweet for a day. It drove Castiel to the brink then drew him back in. And he always left thinking he was the one to blame. The only reason he had left was because of their last fight. Or really, the last time Uriel had lost his temper._

_He had threatened Gabriel._

_Uriel could have gotten away with threatening Castiel, hitting him even, but Gabriel was not negotiable. Gabriel was the one person who had stood by Castiel for years despite his flaws. He lacked manners and Castiel worked to improve him as well, but Castiel was the only one who could insult the man who he considered his brother._

_So he'd left and done the one thing he never regretted. He started hunting._

_\-----_

_From the day that Castiel was born, there was something about him that drew Dean in. Only prophets were officially given guardian angels, but Dean wanted to be his. He just knew there was something special about him. Sam had always been more fascinated in the humans, so Dean had never told him about Cas. It was like his own little secret._

_He followed the boy as he grew, and when he prayed, Dean heard every single one. Angels weren't supposed to feel for the humans, or at least that was what Raphael told everyone, but Dean's heart bled for Cas. The way he folded his hands and looked up at the sky with those big, hopeful eyes. It made Dean want to give him everything he wanted._

_Which was a problem, because all Cas wanted was to be good. And Dean couldn't do that. Because if anyone in the world was wholly good, it was Cas. And Naomi had no right ot hurt him and tell him he was bad at every turn. Dean could see the effect it was having on the boy and all he wanted was to go down there and intervene. But if he did, he would be punished. Severely._

_The day he stopped praying hurt more than Dean had expected. It was like his window into Cas' mind had been broken. He easily could have seen what Cas was thinking without the prayers, but that felt like a violation. He'd known Cas, well it felt like he'd known him, for years, and he hadn't wanted to cheapen that. So instead he decided to give Cas the only other thing he'd ever wanted._

_A friend._

_But he needed to find someone who was different. He needed a boy who wouldn't run with the others and abandon Cas. One who would make him think better of himself. Dean obviously wanted to be the one to do that, but it wasn't an option. So he began searching other foster homes and orphanages, looking into ever boy's mind. Carefully calculating which would be best._

_Gabriel had been a god send._

_He had been abandoned just after birth as well. He had been in the system just as long, but his outlook was drastically different. He knew he was special, and he knew he was good, most of the time. And he was loyal. And Dean could just tell that he and Castiel would be fast friends. Gabriel was so open and affectionate that he would definitely break through to Cas._

_Getting him kicked out of his current home had been easy. Gabriel had been a bit of a trickster for years so it wasn't all that difficult. Dean left a pamphlet for Cas' home out in the open. He accidentally broke a few things while Gabriel was the only one in the room. And Gabriel was on his way to Cas in no time. It was one of his best moments._

_And the punishment he got for his interference was entirely worth it._

_When Gabriel got Cas burned Dean almost regretted his decision to bring in the boy. But after that, Cas seemed to change. He was slightly more outgoing, he smiled a little more, and even though they were tiny changes, Dean had to hope they would grow. And though Cas never prayed, Dean believed that Gabriel was helping his non-existent self esteem._

_When they finally left that home, Dean didn't watch as closely. He didn't worry as much. Naomi was the main source of Cas' problems after all. But he did check in ever now and then. And over the years, Dean still couldn't decide whether or not Gabriel was a positive force in Cas' life. He had helped Cas after his wreck of a relationship, but he had also gotten Cas into the most dangerous profession on earth._

_Bastard._

_\-----_

It took Cas a long time to fall asleep. He hadn't asked, but he was fairly sure that angels didn't sleep, and it made extraordinarily uncomfortable. He'd never slept around anyone but Bobby and Gabriel. He didn't think Dean would hurt him, but he didn't like the idea of being unconscious and defenseless for hours while an angel hung around. 

He was probably being paranoid. He had slept in the car. But that had been by accident. He'd been so exhausted. He was still exhausted. But for some reason his eyes just wouldn't stay shut. For a moment, he hated himself for being so neurotic. Why couldn't he just relax for once in his life? God, how could anybody stand to be around him?

"Aren't you tired?" Dean asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Yes, I just can't seem to fall asleep," Cas said, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He just needed to concentrate.

"Sorry, that isn't really my specialty," Dean apologized. But that made it worse because it was a confirmation that Dean didn't need sleep. Great. 

"It's okay, it isn't as though you can help it," Cas placed a hand over his face. 

"I can put you to sleep if you want. I have angel mojo," There was shuffling but Cas couldn't tell what Dean was doing. 

Cas opened his mouth to refuse. But he needed to sleep. They would be going out on a mission and he needed to be rested or he could die. He would never make up for his wrongs. And there was a chance he would land right back in hell. Even though he felt he deserved to go to hell, Cas couldn't bring himself to choose that. "Very well, do it then," Cas said with a sigh. 

There was a shuffling noise, then he felt two fingers press against his forehead. Then everything went black. 

\-----

Dean listened as Cas' breathing became slow and even. It was a strange comfort to see him so relaxed. Dean just wished he could always be that way. Unfortunately, his more than rocky life had put him in a permanent state of unease. Dean wished he could do more than just put him to sleep. He just wanted Cas to trust him, consider him a friend. 

He sat back down on the bed and crossed his legs. He hadn't been there with Cas the way that Gabriel had, but he still cared just as much. So it sucked that Cas felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room as him. He hadn't read the man's thoughts, but it had been obvious in his inability to sleep and stiffness. 

Dean thought maybe it had to do with what he'd said earlier about not wanting to get attached. Cas probably didn't want to get close only for Dean to solve their problem and leave. That could be it. But what were the chances that that was what was wrong. Sam was always telling Dean that he didn't understand what drove humans. 

But he understood Cas, right?

He'd been watching the man for years. He'd heard every one of his prayers as he'd grown up. He knew Cas. And Cas was slow to open up. Slow to trust. Dean just had to be patient with him. Eventually they would be close, Cas just needed time to get comfortable, and Dean would do everything in his power to earn Cas' trust. 


End file.
